Owl Post
by perfectpotterhead
Summary: When Ginny receives a letter begging for help from the infamous Harry Potter, she feels as though she must respond. But as time passes, she grows closer to someone that she's never met before.
1. Chapter 1

**owl post**

_**(a harry potter story)**_

* * *

The first of the letters arrived on a Monday.

* * *

Ginerva Weasley was eating her breakfast at the Hogwarts table, sitting with her friends Corey Jameson and Angie Winds. Corey nudged her with his elbow. "Listen, Gin," he said jokingly, and she elbowed him back. "You'll wanna hear this." He smiled jokingly and told his riveting story about the time he upset a Mandrake.

"You're such a liar, Corey," Angie said, spooning egg into her mouth. "I don't believe a single word."

"Yeah? Well did I tell you about the time I had to ride off on my broomstrick from an angry chimera?"

Angie moaned and went back to her playing with her wand. She made red sparks shoot out from it, then bright green swirls. Ginny laughed and clapped enthusiastically. Angie twirled it in her fingers as a golden trail lazily drifted along behind it. Angie was the most skilled wand-wielder Ginny knew, but not for spells: for display. She couldn't case a Stunning Spell to saver her life. Forget a Stunning Spell; Angie sometimes had trouble with a Disarming Spell. But Angie could create the best firework show anywhere.

Corey was a great storyteller and jokester. He knew how to make you laugh. He was fair with his wand, but excelled at Transfiguration. He could turn a cat into an overcoat and back again. It never meowed once. There was a memorable class in which he turned a bird into a comfortable, two-floor tent that took up the majority of the Transfiguration classroom.

Corey and Angie were Ginny's best friends. Ginny was very popular and well-liked for her humor, tomboy-nature, and good looks. Ginny was very good in class and had O's in nearly every class. Her spells were magnificent. Ginny had everything.

That morning, owls fluttered about the Great Hall as they normally did. Ginny wasn't expecting anything, although a letter from Mum would be nice.

Instead, a gorgeous snowy white owl descended from the rafters. It landed gracefully on the table. Everyone hushed and watched as the owl dipped its beak into Ginny's coffee. One of Ginny's fellow sixth years noticed a letter tied to its leg. "Ginny, it's for you!"

Ginny carefully undid the letter. She stroked the owl's back gently. It was such a beautiful creature, with large, soft wings and beautiful amber eyes. "Who sent you?" she whispered, but the owl did not reply.

Ginny unraveled the letter. The owl nipped her finger affectionately and soared off out the window, the sixth years' eyes following it out. As soon as it was gone, chatter rumbled back up to normal. Corey smiled as Ginny lips moved. Her eyes widened. It was a long letter, and she read every word carefully. Her heart crashed around inside her chest, her stomach flipping.

"What's it say, Ginerva?" Corey asked playfully. She looked up, cheeks flushed, and her face broke into a shining grin.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she teased. "I'll be in Herbology in just a bit. I'm going to go fetch my books; I forgot them." She rustled Corey's hair, squeezed Angie's shoulder, and hurried up to her room.

**The letter.**

She raced into her dormitory and unfurled the letter again. She reread it.

* * *

_Dear Ginerva,_

_ You don't know me personally, and that's fine. I know who you are, though. I've heard loads about you._

_ I need help, Ginerva._

_ My name is Harry Potter. _(Ginny's stomach did somersaults at this name. The famous Harry Potter. _The famous goddamn Harry Potter._) _I attend Durmstrang, as you most likely know. The Dark Arts school. It's not a very good fit for me, but I had to flee Hogwarts. (More on that later). Your brother and I were very close for three years. We still contact each other daily. Ron is a great person. He helped me escape Hogwarts. _

_ And when I said I needed help, to get back to normal, he recommended the most down-to-earth, calm person he knew._

_ You._

_ You, Ginerva._

_ He told me all about you, how you were raised with five boys, all older. He told me how well you fly, how well you do in school. How lovely you are. And I thought you'd be the perfect person to help me._

_ So, I sat down and wrote this letter._

_ It's not the neatest, and it's messy, and it's probably very vague. I'm sure you're probably very confused and very startled to have received a letter from a virtual stranger. I'm not a stranger to you, but you do not know me. You think you know me: Harry Potter, the once-adored, now-despised wizard who destroyed the Dark Lord for all eternity. He's not coming back. And I was ruined by the media, wasn't I, Ginny? You've heard stories of murder, strange abuse, madness. I assure you: THIS IS NOT ME._

_ I do hope you will write back, Ginerva. I need help. I just need someone to listen._

_ Thanks for reading my letter. I hope it finds good hands and is not intercepted. What a dreadful shame that would be._

_ Please, do not show this letter to anyone. I would like this to remain…secretive. It seems wrong for anyone to read what should be very private._

_ I assure you that I am not coming to harm you. I am harming myself, tearing myself to pieces as I know it. Please, Ginerva._

_ I'm begging for a shoulder to cry on._

_Many thanks,_

_Harry_

* * *

**Harry Potter wrote to me.**

Ginny could not stop replaying this thought in her head. It excited her, but also troubled her greatly. _Write back or not? Write back or not?_

She finally decided that Harry needed help, wherever he was. She was filled with fear that something awful would happen, but also that something awful would happen if she did nothing.

She put a pen to a piece of parchment.

_Dear Harry,_

* * *

I hope you enjoyed the first installment of my story! I really love doing Harry Potter stories because the world of J.K. Rowling's books is so mystical and complex and there's so much to cover. Thanks!

xx –lauren


	2. Chapter 2

**owl post**

_**(a harry potter story)**_

* * *

Ginny took a deep breath.

* * *

_Dear Harry,_

_I'm so pleased to have "met" you. You're one of the most famous people in the entire wizarding world! And no matter how "delinquent" you are, I believe you're one of the greatest wizards ever._

_ I must say, I'm a bit surprised that you've written to me. You're Harry Potter! Surely you could consult a therapist or a trusted official? Nevertheless, I'm ready to help you._

_ My name is Ginerva, but please call me Ginny. I don't mind Gin either._

_ Perhaps you should state what sort of help you need? Is it emotional trauma or actual physical troubles? I am not sure I can help in the physical situation, but I'm quite good with emotions (as all girls seem to be). _

_ Please write back quickly, Harry. I'm here to help you._

_Sincerely,_

_Ginerva (Ginny)_

* * *

Ginny read and reread her words, sucking her quill. Were they kind enough? Harry certainly seemed troubled, and she was worried her fear and anxiety showed too boldly through her words. She also didn't want to pry, as this was a virtual stranger/criminal that she knew next-to-nothing about personally.

"I'm pleased to have 'met' you"? "I believe you're one of the greatest wizards ever"? Would these phrases help, or simply rub salt in a wound?

It was much too worrisome to dwell on for very much longer. She rolled the letter up and fastened it to her owl, Quinn. "Get it to him quickly, Quinn," she whispered to her owl. "I can't afford to wait."

Quinn, a lovely barn owl, hooted kindly and took off into the shining sunlight.

Ginny watched her go with an-already gnawing hole inside of her stomach.

* * *

"Ginerva," Professor Sprout said sternly, which was most unlike her. "Where were you?"

Ginny had dashed into Greenhouse Five breathlessly, twenty minutes late.

"Apologies—miss," Ginny gasped, clutching her side. "I—was—sending—a letter."

Sprout sniffed disapprovingly. "Join up with Jameson, Weasley. He'll explain the directions. And see me after class, please."

Ginny nodded and joined Corey at their table: the one furthest back, in the center.

"Where we you? You said you'd be right down to Herbology," Corey said, grinding a strange sort of purple plant into a powder.

"I know," Ginny said, still breathing heavily. "The letter took longer than I expected. I had to write a response."

"What did the letter say?"

"Shut up and tell me the directions," Ginny said, slightly peevishly. "I'm late and I have to stay after class, Corey," she explained more gently to his questioning look. "What are we doing?"

"These are Taints," he started. "They're slightly venomous, but the gases they 'exhale' are really bad for the environment. If you grind them up they're useful in the Sharp Mindedness Draft." Corey smiled. "They're preeeeeetty."

Ginny laughed and grabbed a mortar. "What're the side effects of the venom?"

"Hives and runny nose. Nothing too serious. Some people are more allergic to them than others. Might wanna put on these." He tossed her a pair of yellow rubber gloves. Ginny pulled them on carefully and began to grind up purple tentacle-leaves.

They oozed out a tinged red liquid that smelled strongly of green pepper. "Oh, don't touch that," Corey said suddenly. "That stuff is bad. It causes really awful itching and watery eyes. Maybe even vomiting." He shuddered. "Plus it tastes terrible once you get it in your system, like rotten tomatoes."

"How would you know?" Ginny said, smiling.

"My brothers once switched my cranberry juice for Taint juice. Blech."

Ginny laughed.

The letter was momentarily pushed out of her mind.

* * *

"Ginerva Weasley!" Professor McGonagall called out, a faint smile crossing her lips. "Come hither, madam!"

Ginny grinned at Angie. McGonagall absolutely loved Ginny, after being through five of her brothers.

"I do believe you have a Quidditch match to win next weekend…?"

Ginny smiled broadly. "I'm ready, Professor."

"I firmly hope you do, Captain. We play Slytherin next Saturday, and I couldn't bear to see Malfoy upset our perfect record." McGonagall bent down and said in a low voice, "I've decided to let you off homework for this weekend, seeing as you've gotten straight O's and you've got to train."

Ginny gaped at her professor. McGonagall _never_ let students off homework. "Are you certain, Professor?"

"As long as you win," McGonagall said with a wink, and Ginny laughed, giving her professor a "thank you" over her shoulder as she walked confidently back over to Angie, who beamed.

"I'll be cheering quite loudly for you," Angie said, pointing her wand at the stick in front of her. It went very golden, shimmering. Ginny did the same, and hers glowed pure white.

"Ah, good, girls," McGonagall said, holding hers up. "Angie did the transformation about half right, while Ginny overshot hers just a tad. Still, excellent." Ginny and Angie beamed at each other. "You two have been doing quite well. Keep up the fantastic work." McGonagall moved onto Jenna Hoppers, who had accidentally impaled her stick in the classroom wall. Angie was beaming, as her work was rarely regarded as good. She almost never got her Transformations right.

"I meant to ask you, why did you leave so suddenly at breakfast?"

"Oh, I had a letter to attend to." Ginny was getting slightly annoyed. Couldn't they just accept that it was private? "Nothing major."

"Yeah, but…Romulus Malfoy said that your family had, um…gone bankrupt."

Ginny felt her face redden. "And you believed it?" she asked hotly.

"No! No, no, no! I just—you've seemed a bit jumpy since then. I wondered if there was something wrong."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Romulus Malfoy has a head full of dragon dung. Don't believe a single word he says." She jabbed her stick with her wand and it went up in a plume of smoke. Angrily, she hissed, _"Aguamenti."_ A small river of water erupted from her wand and doused her wand and herself thoroughly.

"Great," she muttered as the bell rang.

* * *

"Hey, Hothead!" Romulus Malfoy called from across the room. "How's the family?"

"Hey there, Ratulus!" Ginny shot back. "They're fine, dude. At least they know how to keep their overlarge noses out of people's business, huh?"

Romulus smiled wickedly. "You're such a little princess, except _before_ the transformation with the beautiful dress. I expect you wear your brother's old knickers?"

"Precisely, Ratulus. I suppose you get nice, new knitted sweaters from You-Know-Who all the time. I'll bet they read 'Future Death Eater' right across the back."

Romulus's face turned a very ugly purplish color. "You watch your mouth, Weasley. Someday it might just get you into trouble."

Ginny only laughed.

* * *

Professor Snape walked into the dungeon about two minutes later, and Ginny was thankful he had heard none of it. Romulus didn't tattle; tattling was for the weak. But he pounced on an opportunity about a quarter of the way through class.

"Sir? _Ginerva's _helping Jameson with his potion."

Ginny jumped slightly, but—defiantly—kept adding lionfish spine to Corey's potion.

"Miss Weasley, keep your filthy hands off of Jameson's draught and move next to Romulus." Ginny huffed loudly.

"Can I at least bring some air freshener?"

Corey and Ginny's other friends—Clarissa, Jack, Bridget, and Thompson—snickered along with Corey and Angie. Snape, however, was not amused.

"Detention, Weasley." He smiled. "I should've expected this from one who shares blood with Ronald."

"You shut up about my brother!" Ginny snapped.

"Would you like to double your winnings?" Snape snarled. "Adjacent to Romulus. Now, or I will be forced to give you a zero on the upcoming quiz."

Ginny clanked over to Romulus noisily and very, very disruptively. She slammed her cauldron on her table, sending orangey liquid everywhere. It singed a hole in her robes and erupted angry red bumps on Romulus's arm.

"PROFESSOR!" Malfoy screeched. "MY ARM!"

Snape loomed over Ginny like a large, greasy bat.

"Double detention, Miss Weasley."

* * *

"I really, really hate that Malfoy kid," Ginny growled as she and Corey left the dungeon. "He needs a good—"

"Language, Ginerva," Romulus drawled, grinning.

"SHUT UP!" Corey yelled, and Romulus snickered.

"Pathetic," he purred, waltzing away.

Corey shook his head in disgust. "So, anyways. I wanted to see if you'd like to take a walk down by the lake."

Ginny smiled. "I would, but I've got a Herbology essay to finish."

Corey looked slightly crestfallen. "Okay. Have fun."

"I'll meet you in the common room in an hour. Up for some Gobstones?"

He perked up immediately. "Yes, ma'am." He pretended to kiss her hand. "Until we meet again, you weirdo sixth-year girl."

"Ahem, we're both weirdo sixth-years. Don't pretend to be a nerdy first-year, idiot." She playfully pushed him in the direction of the lake. "Look. Scarlett Prespon is down there. Go flirt with her." Corey smiled mechanically.

"No thanks. She's pretty, but not exactly…" Corey shook his head, smiling. "Just go do your stupid essay."

Ginny squeezed his shoulder and hurried off to the Owlrey.

* * *

She checked around, but there was no Quinn anywhere.

"Please, please hurry," she urged her nonexistent owl. "Please let him write back soon."

She half-wanted him to say, _Oh, I've got it all sorted out. _But another half of her, a selfish part of her, wanted Harry Potter to herself. She wanted to be the _only one_ who understood him, the _only one_ he wanted to talk to.

Sure, it'd only been about half a day. But Quinn was the fastest owl Ginny had ever seen, and plus Harry couldn't be that far away, could he? The _Prophet_ had said that he was last seen in Hogsmeade, which was barely even twenty minutes away.

She expected a letter by next morning's post.

And yet, nothing arrived. Quinn did not show a single feather, and Ginny's mood was darkened severely. She wanted another letter. She wanted one desperately, and yet she was unsure if she actually did. She was fearful of his answer, but she craved more. It is like a good book with a cliffhanger chapter.

For the next several days, there was no mail, and Ginny got increasingly infuriated.

* * *

On Saturday morning, Ginny woke up frustrated. She'd dreamed that Quinn had flown to her with thousands and thousands of letters from Harry, and each one was blank.

At breakfast, Ginny slammed her glass down too hard and shattered it. Belligerently, she tried to repair it and broke her plate as well.

"Gin, you need to calm down," Corey said, and Ginny threw him a look so fiery and furious that he quieted. The Great Corey quieted.

"The owls are here!" a girl exclaimed excitedly. "Maybe Mum'll have sent me a new _Magical Mistress_ magazine!"

Ginny looked up so fast that she got a crick in her neck. She spotted her beautiful barn owl speeding around the Great Hall.

"Quinn!" she said delightedly. A letter fluttered down and landed in Ginny's outstretched hands.

_Miss Ginerva Weasley_

_ The Great Hall, Hogwarts_

Ginny got up. "Bathroom," she said quickly, smiling as she left and even giving a sly wave to Romulus.

* * *

She ran up to her dormitory. There were no classes today, so there was no hurry. There was no Herbology to be late to.

* * *

_Dear Ginerva,_

_I'm so happy I've finally found someone who will listen without judging. I'm begging you to understand._

_ You've heard all about me—Harry Potter, the hero-turned-bad-boy. I know you have, Ginerva. I'm sorry if this letter is shaky, by the way—I'm trembling._

_ My nightmares are full of my past._

_ But I hit rock-bottom about six months ago._

_ It was all the media._

_ The Prophet, Rita Skeeter—everything was twisted. Heading into a pub became "early alcoholism". Being seen with a girl meant "getting engaged". Everything meant something else—something more severe. And slowly, I sunk into the life the media wanted me to live. I drank. I partied. I did things I shouldn't have. All at fifteen and sixteen years old._

_ I wasn't happy with myself._

_ Ginerva, I want you to write back straightaway. I need to hear your response to this. Send your owl quickly. I should be able to send Hedwig with your lovely owl right back. Expect my letter tomorrow if you write back today._

_ Thank you so much for listening._

_I appreciate it._

_-Harry, the Media Monster_

* * *

Ginny took in the words.

Then she got out her quill, some ink, and a piece of parchment.

And she wrote.

* * *

_Dear Harry,_

_Don't worry about me judging you. I grew up being judged: for my family's poorness, for my robes, for my hair. I got judged about everything. So I understand._

_ The media really does suck sometimes, doesn't it? That Skeeter woman is a she-devil if I've ever seen one. She's twisted too many stories and ruined too many lives. I'm sorry to hear that you were a victim of her._

_ The Prophet quite likes to tell lies, to over-emphasize things. And, Harry? You shouldn't blame yourself._

_ "I sunk into the life the media wanted me to live". That's awful, Harry. But when a celebrity bursts onto the scene, people expect drama. That's what the media gave them—it just wasn't true. You kind of "confirmed" it when you changed, and became easier for them to publish strange tales about you: except they were true tales._

_ I remember hearing something about you once: "HARRY POTTER—THE NEW DARK LORD?"_

_ That's what told me that everything was a lie. Ron had told me so much about you! I'd sneaked glances of you when you came over. I saw how you acted. I knew you weren't like that! So I always kind of knew that you were a good person._

_ I'd like it if you called me Ginny, by the way. Ginerva's such an odd name. It sounds too mature for me. I'm not mature. Today I was issued double detention by Severus Snape, the greasy old mole rat. All for spilling potion (accidentally on purpose) on Romulus Malfoy's great dirty head._

_ Maybe you want to hear about Hogwarts? I don't know if this will be bittersweet or not._

_ The common room is always a mess, thanks to Seamus Finnigan and my twin brothers. They like to play this game—"Exploding Chess"—where if your piece is captured, it gets all flustered and rockets around the room, setting off little blasts as it goes. There are still the best squishy armchairs there, and mine is the great black leather one that you sink into when you sit down. _

_ I'm sorry to say that Ron is terribly lonely sometimes. Hermione is great company—if you like to read. He misses you, Harry. That first three years you two had together was great for him, Harry. He loved being your friend._

_ I do hope that the people at Durmstrang treat you alright. I remember when you first got into the school. The media had a holiday. They went to town: "WHY DID HARRY LEAVE HOGWARTS?" "A NEW DARK ARTS MASTER" "POTTER: A SECRET VILLAIN?"_

_It was terrible, Harry, because I knew the truth._

_ I guess I have a few questions, if that's alright._

_ How is Durmstrang?_

_ How old are you?_

_ And—most importantly—_

_ Do you trust me?_

_Many, many thanks_

_Ginny, not Ginerva_

* * *

"Hurry it, Quinn," Ginny said, smiling serenely.

Her insides were at rest once again.


	3. Chapter 3

**owl post**

_**(a harry potter story)**_

* * *

Ginny slept rather restlessly that night, praying her letter was good enough. Did it cover all she wanted to cover? Was she too harsh? Did she even make _sense?_ Thoughts tore at each other, stripping themselves down to one question:

_What did Harry even want?_

He said he wanted a shoulder to cry on. Was he just going to explain his story and then _goodbye!_ Or did he expect her to actually write to him for a long time? Ginny was extremely confused.

On Sunday, Harry's letter did not arrive. This worried Ginny immensely and she could hardly focus on anything.

* * *

On Monday she slept til ten o'clock, nearly missing breakfast.

Running to the Great Hall in scrubby robes and tangled hair, she slid into her seat.

The beautiful snowy owl was back, waiting expectantly at Ginny's seat.

"Oh, it's the owl again!" someone cooed, and soon everyone was all over the gorgeous creature. Ginny felt glowing pride—_she knew the owl's name._

Hedwig. Such a lovely, simple name. It suited the owl very well, as the bird was very plain, but very beautiful. Ginny stroked its back, feeding it some of her bacon. The owl hooted attentively, and Ginny smiled.

"Thank you," she whispered. The owl clicked its beak and soared off, great amber eyes visible from a far distance.

"Ginny, this is just weird now. You've gotten three letters in a row and won't tell us who they're from or what they're about!" Angie exclaimed angrily. "I'm your best friend, you know. Corey and I have been worried. For the past week, you're either spitting mad or bubbly and happy. It's odd."

Ginny avoided Angie's pale eyes. "I'm just dealing with some stuff, okay? _Private and confidential._ Just because I'm your best friend doesn't mean I have to tell you absolutely everything, especially if it doesn't concern you."

Angie nodded sullenly, stabbing a sausage rather angrily. "You're just not yourself, lately."

Ginny fought off an insane smile.

_How can I be? Harry Potter—HARRY POTTER—is writing goddamn letters to me! He trusts me with his most private secrets! And I don't know what to do, really, or how to respond! He's just crying on my shoulder right now!_

This led Ginny to another fearful question—

What was to come?

Sure, right now things were sailing quite smoothly. But what else did Harry have to say? What if he wanted her to do something for him?

"See, you look terrified again. What is going on in your head?" Angie gently tapped Ginny's forehead. "I do wonder about you sometimes."

Ginny smiled through her angst.

"I do too."

* * *

Ginny ran into a bathroom and locked the door to her stall. Unfurling her letter, the sight of Harry's hastily scribbled words made her heart both stop and speed up at the same time.

* * *

_Dear Ginerva,_

_I'm going to call you Ginerva because it is a beautiful name. I can only assume that you are a beautiful girl (you might say "you know what I look like!" but really, I don't. I'm sorry—the fleeting glances I caught of you haven't really stuck in my memory.)_

(This made Ginny deflate like a balloon—although it was her own fault. She hadn't shown her face much to Harry. He'd been through so much that it was natural to forget an insignificant little girl. And yet—it hurt so much, to know that she'd admired him for so long and he couldn't remember what she looked like. He assumed she was beautiful and she was sorry she had to let him down. Ginny did not believe she was beautiful in the slightest.)

_But I do think you ARE beautiful because you chose to help me. Even though you don't have to, you did._

_ I guess this letter will be short but don't leave, don't leave, please don't leave me. I finally might get—I don't exactly know how to put this—"better". I'm writing this while I'm sad so I apologize if it comes off as blunt and insensitive._

_ I'm just going to answer your questions and then I have a few of my own if that's okay._

_ Durmstrang? Durmstrang is awful. I don't belong here! I need out, but I can't leave another school. Hogwarts isn't an option anymore. I also literally can't—once you're signed up, you don't leave. It becomes prison. Durmstrang is the only way, but it's the wrong way. I need to get out—quickly, before I go insane. All they do is teach us how lovely the Dark Arts are, and we practice them on prisoners. PRISONERS. Prisoners of a nearby prison that Grindelwald built. It's terrible, Ginerva. _

_ I'm not asking you to help me get out of Durmstrang. I'm asking you to help me get out of my head. I need to be sane again._

_ Okay. I'm seventeen—which you should know, you goofball, since you've met me before._

_ And the last question troubled me for so long. I thought for about twenty minutes after I wrote that last sentence. _

_ I do, Ginerva._

_ I trust you._

* * *

The letter ended right there, and it worried Ginny immensely. It was as though he was purposely trying to rip her to shreds. Her heart both soared and fell at the same time. She was fighting an internal battle. She really didn't think she was the least bit qualified to help a mentally challenged, depressed, alcoholic seventeen-year-old wizard. She half-wanted him to say _Oh, never mind. I don't need your help. _But another part of her remembered the Harry she fell for. He was a virtual stranger, but she knew the ghost of him was still there somewhere. And it both gave her despair and wild, wild hopes.

* * *

"Ginerva, please demonstrate a successful Vanishing Spell," Professor Flitwick squeaked, "seeing as you are the only one who seems to have an inch of sanity today!"

True, the class had been more chatty than usual. But Valentine's Day was fast approaching, and all the buzz was about the "Enchanted Ball"—a less sophisticated version of the Yule Ball, you could say. The Great Hall would be decorated with cherubs of angels, floating hearts, and singing roses. It'd be "pinked out", as Corey so rightly put it. Ginny wasn't so excited about that—pink, after all, did not suit her. She did enjoy attending with Angie last year, however, and was frequently asked to dance by boys she didn't know very well. Naturally, she said yes—only so as not to hurt anyone's feelings (she knew what it was like to be wistful about someone).

Ginny pointed her wand at the old mannequin they were practicing on. _"Evanesco!" _she said clearly, and the mannequin disappeared from sight.

"Very good!" Flitwick cheered, clapping his hands. "You follow in Miss Granger's footsteps, I see!"

Ginny blushed slightly. "Hermione is ten times the witch I am," she admitted.

Flitwick shook his head. "Nonsense. You are both very bright girls. Hup, hup, class! Back to work!"

Everyone returned to their mannequins, varying voices calling out _"Evanesco!"_ to no avail. By the end of the hour, only Ginny was able to fully vanish an object. Clarissa Wallwinder, one of Ginny's fellow Gryffindors, came close, but could not get the mannequin's head to disappear—in the end, she got so frustrated that she accidentally set the head on fire and it chased Flitwick around the classroom.

* * *

"That was an interesting lesson, Hermione Granger 2.0," Corey said teasingly.

"Shut up, Ron. You're no help," Ginny poked back. "I was right, though. Hermione's a thousand times better at magic than I am. Just because I can wave my wand and make a dummy go who-knows-where doesn't mean I'm the next Hermione."

"Don't say that about yourself, Gin," Corey said reasonably. "You're the best in our year."

Ginny gave a little sigh-laugh and shrugged. "If you say so, Core." Her eyebrows furrowed and she looked at Corey. "Angie told me you two have been worried about me."

Corey looked uncomfortable. He stared at his feet.

"We have."

"Why? I'm perfectly fine!" Ginny bit back her temper. It was just so irritating that they needed to know _everything._ "My life is not your book to open at will and read."

"Gin, I never said that—"

"But you keep _asking!_"

Corey backed away, hands in the air. "Okay. We won't ask anymore."

Ginny felt terrible for exploding like that, but she couldn't help it. The last week had been mixes of heaven and hell—all having to do with Harry.

* * *

_she'd only gotten three letters was the worst part_

* * *

**so much drama and only three letters.**

Ginny knew Harry was somewhere close to her. But that didn't add up with his Durmstrang story—how was Hedwig arriving so quickly? She didn't dwell on the topic, but it certainly bit at her. She was more concerned with Harry, not his means of letter-delivering.

_He doesn't want help breaking out of Durmstrang, just breaking out of his own head. He called me a goofball. He's seventeen. He's an alcoholic. He destroyed the Dark Lord for good. He practices the Dark Arts on prisoners. He needs help. __**He trusts me.**_

Ginny tossed these things around her head, trying to form a person out of them. All she could picture was a tiny second-year Harry, sheepish and still so new to the wizarding world. She wished he still went to Hogwarts. She wished it so dearly.

* * *

Ginny hopped onto her poor excuse for a broom. "Okay, Weasley! We're letting out the Snitch!" Ginny kicked off the hard, frozen ground, her red-and-gold scarf trailing behind her as she flew around on her Nimbus Two Thousand. She'd finally been awarded a better broom—although the Nimbus Two Thousand and One was the broom she really wanted. Her Two Thousand would have to do for now.

She saw the Snitch being released from the crate—a tiny flutter of gold against the dark ground. She watched it zoom around the pitch. Ginny tore after it, making sharp turns and never taking her eyes off the prize.

Within seconds, she was right behind it. Her fingers brushed its delicate wings—

_Harry was a Seeker too._

She let out an involuntary gasp. She halted her broom, feeling her hands tremble.

_**FOCUS, YOU DUMBASS**_

Ginny shook her head. She flew after it, Harry still occupying her mind.

_How are you already so distracted by him? He's sent you THREE LETTERS! You're pathetic!_

She was angry. She was angry at herself, angry at Harry. And she flew like a goddamn comet, so fast she almost fell off of her broom. Her still-shaking fingers closed around the Snitch. Its tiny wings beat helplessly against her palm.

"I'VE GOT IT!" Ginny screamed.

She returned to the ground.

Katie Bell put a hand on Ginny's shoulder. "You okay? You stopped pretty suddenly up there."

Ginny nodded vigorously. "Oh yeah. Just a sneeze."

"Well, you better not sneeze in the upcoming match. You almost didn't catch that thing—although I am glad you perked up and flew after that thing like it'd set your broomstick on fire."

Ginny laughed weakly. "Yeah. I got mad that I stopped like that—decided to do something about it."

"Okay, team. I'm going to teach you a move called the Sloth Grip Roll…"

* * *

Ginny walked stiffly back up to the castle with her team: Dean Thomas, Katie Bell, and Demelza Robins (the Chasers); Jimmy Peakes and Ritchie Coote (the Beaters); and Ron (the Keeper). Ginny was the Seeker, and she was damn good at her job. Some called her the best female Seeker in a very long while. Ginny hadn't lost a match yet.

"Alright, team. Saturday it is! We'll have practice tomorrow, same time." Katie was the Captain this year, and she was a very good Captain.

But Ginny remembered watching Harry fly—and he could fly like no other. She wondered if he would still be as good even though he hadn't flown in over a year, and it made her sad. Quidditch was Harry's passion. Even she knew that.

Her mind reeled with what she was going to say in her next letter.

* * *

_Dear Harry,_

_I'm happy to hear that you trust me—because I trust you too. And I'm sorry to say that I'm not beautiful. I've got stark-red hair just like Ron's and boring brown eyes. You remember what I looked like as a young girl. It's all been downhill from there._

_ I can't believe they're making you practice on prisoners._

_ That's sick, Harry, that's really sick. You should just try and fly off on your broomstick. _

_ By the way, I practiced Quidditch today and it reminded me of you. You were the best Seeker in a century, Harry. I wish you still flew for us. I'd much rather play Chaser. We'd win for sure, with you and I on a team._

_ I guess I just miss you, Harry. You knew I had a crush on you. I must say, I don't anymore, but I miss you. I miss how happy Ron was when you were around. I miss you coming over to stay. I miss watching you play Quidditch and win us matches. A lot of things changed at Hogwarts when you left. A lot. _

_ I have another question._

_ Why are you writing to me? What do you want from me? I know you said you want help "breaking out of your own head". But I'm afraid I don't quite understand what that means. I don't see why you chose me, of all people. Harry, I don't get anything. I'm confused. Are we just going to write back and forth like pen-pals, or is there a long-term goal? Please, please explain._

_ I would also like to know how you're sending your letters back so fast, if that's alright. I have so many questions._

_ But I don't have enough answers._

_From your confused acquaintance,_

_Ginny_

* * *

Ginny's head was spinning.

_**You're stuck in my head, Harry, and sometimes I wish you weren't.**_

She took her time tying to her letter to Quinn's leg. Her fingers were shaking so badly that she nearly tore the delicate parchment multiple times. It was awhile before she realized that she had no string in her hands.

She struck her forehead with her fist. _I'm going crazy, _she thought, _with the weight of Harry on my shoulders._

"Get out of my head," she whispered.

* * *

"Gin?" Corey asked cautiously. "Are you okay?"

Ginny smiled reassuringly. "Fine, why do you ask?"

"You were really mad earlier." He sighed. "I just want to know who's writing you letters, Ginny."

Ginny threw him a contemptuous glare. "I know you're concerned, and that's sweet, Corey. But I'm fine. You don't need to know. It's private. _Let it go._"

He nodded, looking very put-out.

"Corey, I swear, if something was wrong I'd tell you." She squeezed his arm and rustled his hair. "You're so clingy, god."

He smiled and gave a tiny laugh. "Sometimes I just need a little love."

Ginny laughed. "Let's just go to the lake."

Corey shook his head. "Can't. I'm meeting, uh, Scarlett Prespon by the Whomping Willow." His cheeks were red and he wouldn't meet Ginny's eyes.

"Seriously?"

He nodded, embarrassed.

"That's awesome, dude! Go get her, tiger!" she said, grinning widely.

Corey's shoulders slumped slightly. He smiled. "Okay. See you at dinner."

* * *

Ginny didn't show up to dinner. She was in her dormitory, poring over books.

_"Famous Wizarding Figures of the Twenty-First Century…Famous Recent Works of Wizards…How the Dark Lord Rose and Fell…Harry Potter: His Life So Far…"_

She opened the first thick book. Plumes of dust rose and watered her eyes.

"Harry Potter…Harry Potter…"

She found _Famous Wizarding Figures of the Twenty-First Century_'s index. There, one of the most recent entries was Harry Potter.

* * *

"**Harry Potter was born 31 July, 1980 to James and Lillian Potter. His greatest feat occurred as a child, when the Dark Lord entered his house in Godric's Hollow. He killed James and Lillian and then proceeded to attempt to destroy the young boy, but for a reason the curse rebounded, striking the Dark Lord himself and leaving Harry unscathed but for a scar on his forehead. Harry Potter currently attends Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."**

The entry simply wasn't recent enough. Ginny wanted to know about Harry's downward spiral into depression and drinking.

* * *

Ginny fell asleep with her cheek resting on the four-hundredth page of _The Most Famous Wizards of Our Time. _She had found almost nothing about Harry, except for things she already knew.


	4. Chapter 4

_**owl post**_

_**(a harry potter story)**_

* * *

"_Ginny…Ginny…"_

_ Ginny peered around. She was in a dark room, fog twisting around her ankles. She was wearing only a thin sheet, like those in St. Mungo's did. Her upper back was exposed, and her hair tickled her bare skin. It was very cold in that room and Ginny shivered despite herself._

_ "Ginny…Ginny…"_

_ "Who's there?" Ginny called hoarsely. Her throat was raw, as though she'd been screaming._

_ "Ginny…help me…"_

_ The voice was awfully familiar. She lifted her shoeless feet from the floor and began to walk. The room just expanded as she trudged forward, her legs protesting in pain. She saw that they were flowered with bruises and roughed with cuts. Her arms looked just the same. She looked as though she'd been brutally beaten._

_ "Ginny…!"_

_ There was an edge of horrible desperation to the voice, and it broke Ginny's aching heart. _

_ "Where are you?" Ginny yelled, her throat burning._

_ "Ginny, Ginny…"_

_ And then a cold wind roared through the room, knocking Ginny to the floor. Her hands found smooth, hard concrete and her cheek smacked against it. She spat blood out of her mouth._

_ "GINNY, GINNY…"_

_ Ginny felt a terrible blow in her side. Moaning, she curled into a fetal position. "Stop," she gagged, still choking blood._

_ "GINNY!" a voice screamed in her ear, and through swollen eyes she saw the looming face of Harry Potter. _

_ "Harry!" she howled, her mouth very dry. "Harry, what's wrong?"_

_ "GINNY!" he begged, repeating her name over and over through jagged shrieks. _

_ "You call me Ginerva," she whispered, pulling herself up. "You call me Ginerva because it's beautiful."_

_ "GINNY! GINNY! GINNY! __**GINNY!**__" he positively screeched. "I need your help. I need your help."_

_ "Are we in…Durmstrang?"_

_ Harry shook his head violently. His eyes were too green, too green. They were all Ginny saw._

_ "Your wand your wand your wand __get your goddamn wand__."_

_ Ginny wanted to throw up. "Harry, what's wrong with you?"_

_ He seized her and brought her very close. His skin was burning with cold and Ginny screamed at the contact. New bruises bloomed from where his fingers had touched her._

_ "You're—you're the one hurting me!" she gasped, crying mostly from pain but also from realization, trying to free herself. "You're hurting me even though you think you're just pleading for help!"_

_ "Ginny, you've got to help me, please just listen!"_

_ "NO!" Ginny cried, her entire body bursting with pain. "Leave me alone, don't touch me!"_

_ Harry wrapped his arms more tightly around her til she could no longer tell which body was which._

_ All she knew was fiery, fiery blood._

* * *

She awoke, heaving with heavy breaths, drenched in sweat. Shaking, she rolled over and fell back asleep.

When she awoke, she had no recollection of her nightmare.

* * *

"Good morning," Ginny said cheerfully to Corey and Angie.

"Well, isn't someone bright and happy as hell?" Angie teased, smiling.

"'Bright and happy as hell'?" Corey repeated. "Hell isn't a very bright and happy place, Angie."

Ginny laughed and buttered some toast. She had awoken to Errol beside her bed, a letter from her mum attached to his leg. Ginny was in a very good mood today, because not only was the sun shining and bright, not only did she have Quidditch practice tonight, and not only because she was less stressed for some reason, but did Seamus Finnigan find her about twenty minutes before breakfast to ask her to be his girlfriend.

Seamus was very cute, thought Ginny, and had a spectacular sense of humor (and pyrotechnics, as McGonagall put it so very wisely). She had agreed with a smile, and Seamus went off to find Dean, grinning like mad about his accomplishment.

Ginny was extremely sought-after, seeing as she was a very beautiful girl, was not afraid to get her hands dirty, and was a star on the Quidditch team. Once she had stopped isolating herself and chasing after Harry, she became more confident—more like her brothers. And Ginny was noticed.

"Seamus is waving to you," Corey remarked.

Ginny smiled at Seamus and waved back, gesturing for him to come sit by her.

"Hello again," Seamus said with a wink, taking a seat next to Ginny.

"Again?" Corey asked, frowning.

"Are you two dating?" Angie asked, smiling like a child on Christmas morning. "Ginny, are you?"

Ginny grinned and glanced at Seamus. "Yeah."

_"No way!"_ Corey and Angie said at the same time, in very different tones.

Seamus took Ginny's hand. "I'd liked her for a really long time. Decided to do something about it."

Ginny smiled, blushing red. There was an air of severe awkwardness in the air.

"Ready for the match?" Seamus asked her, and she thanked him for cutting the tension.

"Oh yeah. You'll be there?"

"I never miss a good Quidditch match. Not with you on the team." He smiled embarrassedly.

"Aw, thanks. I've been working my butt off training. Plus now that it's so much colder…" Ginny shook her head. "I just want to win. We play Slytherin, and I want to wipe the smirk off of both of the Malfoys' faces."

Romulus and Draco were both on the team; Draco played Seeker and Romulus, Keeper.

Corey stabbed his toast with his butter knife and left the table. Angie rolled her eyes. "He's upset for absolutely no reason." She smiled. "Tell us more about the match, Ginny."

* * *

Seamus smiled at Ginny from across the DADA classroom, although there was really nothing to smile about. Snape was a ruthless teacher, and Ginny hated him dearly. Nevertheless, Ginny shot a sweet smile back Seamus's way. Corey cleared his throat and Ginny smiled at him too. She was in a stupendous mood.

"Today we will be covering…ah…the Severing Charm and its recent terrorization of the Wizarding World."

"A bit like our Severus has been terrorizing us," Ginny mumbled to Corey, whose manner dropped immediately and he snickered, choking on his laughter.

* * *

In Corey's eyes, Ginny was perfect.

She always made him laugh with her sarcastic, collected humor. She was—ah—_easy on the eyes, _as one might say. She could fly like no other.

And now, she was just out of reach.

He saw her gazing at Seamus. He cleared his throat rather obnoxiously, and she smiled her sweet, beautiful smile at him, and he couldn't stay mad.

Corey could, however, stay jealous.

For the next few days, he'd have to cope with Ginny laughing at every word that slipped out of Seamus's mouth and Angie commenting on how adorable they were.

Three days after Ginny had agreed to be Seamus's girlfriend, Corey snapped.

Ginny was sitting on Seamus's lap in her favorite armchair, telling him how excited she was for the Enchanted Ball, which was in about two weeks.

Corey marched over to them, grabbed Ginny's wrist, and pulled her off Seamus. She crashed onto the floor and Seamus jumped to his feet.

"What was that for, aye?" he growled, taking Ginny's hand and helping her up.

Ginny glared at Corey. "For god's sakes, Corey. What do you need?" She rubbed her elbow, where she had hit the hardest.

"A word, that's what I need," Corey spat.

"I'll be one second," Ginny said to Seamus, dragging Corey into a corner.

"I don't want you to see Seamus anymore," Corey said quickly, biting his words.

"Why?" Ginny asked, still angry. "What does throwing me to the ground have to do with me not seeing Seamus? I like him—a lot, I should add. He's my date to the Ball. What's the problem? I'm happy!"

"I'm happy that you're happy, Gin, but you don't spend much time with me anymore."

It was very cliché, but Ginny was a sucker for those kinds of things. Corey tried his best to hide his jealousy and seem clingy. "I'm sorry. That was predictable. But it's true."

Ginny smiled. "The world is full of clichés, and eventually we'll run out of things that aren't cliché. Best to use the ones that are worn out now before they're just a way of life." She grinned. "I'm sorry I've been so occupied with Sea, okay? Let's meet in the library tonight to study for our Divination test."

Corey felt his hopes soar. "Just me and you?"

"Just me and you." She smiled over her shoulder as she walked back to Seamus, kissing his cheek.

Corey wasn't in the ideal position, but he had definitely moved up a notch.

* * *

Ginny looked at the clock. _I've got time, I've got time. I need to read this one._

It was ten minutes to five, when she was supposed to meet Corey in the library. She couldn't help it; she had to read Harry's letter.

She sprinted to the bathrooms, which were closer than her dormitory, and shakily undid the letter.

* * *

_Dear Ginerva,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I realize I forgot to ask my questions in the last letter, so here goes:_

_ Do you remember what I was like at Hogwarts?_

_ What was your reaction to my first letter?_

_ What is your favorite song? _

_ Favorite color?_

_ Favorite food?_

_ I feel as though I haven't gotten to know you at all. I do wish we'd had more time to interact when I was still at Hogwarts._

_ You asked some very complicated questions in your last letter, Ginerva. _

_ Why am I writing? To stay sane, perhaps. To tell you my troubles. To get them off of my chest. To actually interact with someone that doesn't think me crazy or a drunk._

_ (I say that as I take a sip of Bryson's Best Brandy. Charming wizard, that fellow.)_

_ What do I want from you?_

_ Your words, Ginerva._

_ Your words and your emotions. Your sympathy. I'm in pain, and you're the nurse. I JUST NEED YOU TO LISTEN. I was surprised you asked that question, because I stated that very clearly in my first letter._

_ My letters arrive fast because I am very near to you most of the time. I've learned to Apparate, however, so I can transport anywhere. I wish I could Apparate to Hogwarts and talk to you face-to-face. _

_ I have heard talk of an Enchanted Ball, however…do you have a date? Are you excited? I'm curious about you now, Ginny._

_ I guess we will be pen-pals. If that's alright with you._

_Much love,_

_Harry James Potter_

* * *

Ginny smiled to herself, holding the letter to her chest. She wanted to write back so quickly, but she had to meet Corey. She slipped the letter into her robe's pockets and hurried to the library.

* * *

Corey frowned at her. "It's nearly five-thirty, Gin. Where were you?"

"Oh—um—"

_"Not another letter!"_ Corey moaned. "Ginny, what's going on? You're always so distracted. And the one time I thought we could finally be alone together and just have fun you show up late. You organized this, not me."

Ginny's heart sank. This _was_ her fault. Corey had every right to be hurt. "Core, I'm sorry, I just lost track of time—"

"No. Really. Where the hell were you? Your dormitory, reading another letter? Are they from Seamus?" His cheeks were red and his eyes were prying into Ginny's thoughts.

"Stop, Corey. Stop." She held up a hand. "There's a difference between being curious and being intrusive, and you've crossed that line."

"Ginny, if something's wrong _I have to know._ I'm your best goddamn friend and you're not telling me anything. I'm worried. You can't blame me for being worried." He bit his lip.

"You're…never mind, Corey. Just never mind. I can't open a few letters without you jumping all over me, throwing a tantrum because I won't tell you private details. I'm not acting differently, and you know it. You can't stop me from writing back." She got up and stormed out of the library, her hair streaming angrily behind her.

* * *

Ginny felt terrible about what she said to Corey, but all of it was true. _This was freaking private and Corey has no right to invade my confidential life!_ The longer she seethed, the angrier she got. Corey wouldn't stop, would he? At least Angie had the decency to move on. But Corey was sticking this like a leech, and Ginny was getting pissed.

* * *

She walked down to the pitch for Quidditch practice.

"Hey! Ginny!"

Dean scurried down to Ginny, grinning mischeviously. "How's Seamus, eh?"

"Shut up," Ginny laughed. "We're good. He's a good boyfriend."

Someone grabbed her from behind. Ginny yelped unattractively to find her "good boyfriend" smiling slyly at her.

"YOU IDIOTS!" Ginny screamed while Dean and Seamus roared with laughter. "That was not nice!"

"I'm not here to be nice, Gin," Seamus purred, sweeping her into a kiss.

Ginny had never kissed anyone before, and Seamus did it with casual grace. She exploded under his touch, and her fingers felt warm. She kissed back fiercely, smiling against Seamus's lips. Dean made exaggerated gagging sounds.

"Oh, shut up, Thomas," Seamus said, sounding dazed. Ginny knew she was. That kiss had been warmer than a crackling fire.

"That was intense!" Katie Bell called. "Now come practice, lovebird!"

Ginny smiled back at Seamus. "Care to watch?"

Seamus kissed her again. "I'd love to."

* * *

Ginny jumped onto her broom and soared into the sky, her stomach doing butterflies now that she knew Seamus was watching. He may have been held back for another go at sixth year, but Ginny didn't care. She really, really liked Seamus.

"GO GET EM, SWEETHEART!" Seamus screamed from the stands, and Ginny giggled, doing a couple loop-the-loops to clear her head. _The Snitch, catch the Snitch._ About a minute after Demelza released it Ginny found it flapping helplessly against her fingers.

"Wow," Katie teased. "We should get your boyfriend in the stands every practice."

"ROCK EM SOCK EM!" Seamus shouted, making Ginny laugh.

* * *

The letter? What letter? Corey? Who's Corey? Her thoughts were on Quidditch…and Sea, of course.

She had a fantastic boyfriend who made her feel amazing.


	5. Chapter 5

_**owl post**_

_**(a harry potter story)**_

* * *

Corey didn't want to go to the game, but Angie yanked him along.

"You can't sulk in your room about Ginny," she had told him, pulling him down to the pitch. "Look, there she is!"

Ginny was standing with the other Gryffindor players, chatting to Dean Thomas—no doubt about Seamus.

_Seamus._

Corey's cheeks felt warm with anger. Seamus. Seamus had snatched Ginny away from him, and now she didn't even like Corey. It was all Seamus's fault.

Perhaps not, though. The author of the letters had begun the whole thing. If whoever it was could just _stop saying whatever they needed to say, _everything would revert back to normal, in a world where Ginny and Corey were the best of friends and no Seamus was in the picture. Just the TriSquad—Ginny, Corey, and Angie.

This made Corey even madder. Corey was just a bubbling mass of anger—nothing that had happened was his fault.

* * *

Ginny felt her heart beating out of her chest. Quidditch filled her with such a strange rush, better than any drug. Better than any drink. Quidditch was her addiction, her happy pill.

"Mount your brooms!" Professor Hooch squawked, and Ginny pulled her leg over her broom, ready to kick off. "Three…two…one!"

Ginny's feet pushed against the frozen ground. She soared into the sky. Lee Jordan, a seventh year, was commentating the match.

"They're off! Robins, the newest on the team, immediately snatches the Quaffle—ouch, a Bludger to the knee—and it's Gordon with the Quaffle, Gordon with the—ha! Yes! Peakes aims a Bludger directly at his nose, finds its way, nice one! It's Bell with the Quaffle—Bell being the only member of the team when Harry Potter was first on it—"

SMACK. Ginny had plowed straight into Katie, and they collided. At the mention of Harry's name, Ginny's world had gone blank.

"GINNY!" Katie howled, diving to retrieve the red ball.

"Ooh, the Gryffindor Seeker, Weasley, collides with Bell, that's going to hurt their score—wait, never mind, it's Robins with the Quaffle—come on, Demelza!—She ducks around a Bludger, there's Baker, _he's right there, Demelza!_—I DON'T BELIEVE IT! SHE'S DODGED HIM! You can do it, Robins—she shoots—SCORES! TEN-NIL TO GRYFFINDOR!"

The red mass of spectators screamed their delight. Ginny could see Seamus in the stands, cheering like mad. The sight made her smile, but she trained her eyes to the pitch. Doing a couple of barrel rolls to free her mind, she searched in vain for the Snitch. Gryffindor was up forty-ten before she found it—right in the middle of the pitch.

She tore after it.

"I think Weasley sees something—yes—she's seen the Snitch! _Grab it, Ginny!_"

Ginny was a comet, her fiery red hair a tail. She cut sharply around the two Slytherin Beaters, the Snitch so close—

* * *

And then she was knocked off her broom, falling to the ground.

* * *

She plummeted toward the ground, too dazed to scream. Her head pounded. Her numb fingers finding her wand, she stuttered _"Mobilicorpus!_" and pointed her wand at herself.

She stopped falling immediately and rose a few inches, about thirty feet from the ground. A sigh of relief fell over the ground—and then the stadium exploded with screaming, biting, awful comments about Romulus Malfoy: the one who had knocked her off her broom.

"ENOUGH!" Madam Hooch screamed, her voice obviously magnified. "FIFTY POINTS AWARDED TO GRYFFINDOR."

"Ginny almost _died!_" Dean howled, gesturing to a still-levitating Ginny. Ginny cast a Cushioning Charm on the ground below her and lifted her Levitating Hex. She was nauseatingly dizzy and crumpled on the ground in a heap, the ground feeling very much like a huge pile of pillows.

"'S okay," she mumbled when Demelza flew over to help her up.

"No you're not," Demelza said soothingly. "Madam Pomfrey will fix you up. I'll kick Malfoy's ass for you."

Ginny curled up into a ball, trying to get her heart to beat.

* * *

_**romulus**_

_**tried**_

_**to**_

_**kill**_

_**me**_

_**?**_

**ginny's brain hurt.**

**surely no one was as cold-hearted over silly, childish things as to attempt murder.**

**it must've been an accident.**

**one thing was for sure:**

**she was never going near the malfoys again.**

**gryffindor had won the match.**

**nobody celebrated. the entire team was gathered around ginny's beside, praying she'd stop shaking long enough to walk.**

**she couldn't.**

**ginny shook like a leaf in caught in a windstorm, and she could hardly lift her head long enough to tell madam pomfrey she didn't need any water. after several days in the hospital wing, madam pomfrey decided to keep her there for an extended week to give her the calming draught professor snape had concocted. **

* * *

ginny's mind was a bit clearer on the friday after the match—however, she couldn't stop trembling. the brush of death had claimed a place in her mind. romulus malfoy hadn't shown his face in the hospital wing, although she'd seen the blurry face of draco peering through the hospital wing's window.

angie and seamus had hardly left ginny's side. dean, demelza, ron, hermione, and katie visited her on a daily basis.

corey hadn't shown for six straight days.

* * *

"Ginerva, you seem much better today," Madam Pomfrey cooed the next Thursday. "I think just one more cup of the Calming Draught and you should be set!"

Ginny had stopped quivering and was already completing the mass amount of homework she had received from Snape while she was out of classes—none of the other teachers had pawned a single page on her.

"Really?" Ginny asked in earnest. "You think so?"

"Yes, dear. You've made a full recovery." Pomfrey beamed at her and handed Ginny a cup of a pale pink potion which smelled pleasantly of baking bread. Ginny gulped it down and sprang up from her bed.

"Thanks, Madam Pomfrey." She smiled before slinging her bag over her shoulder and striding out of the room.

Angie sat near the door, chewing her fingernails. She brightened like a lamp when she saw Ginny. Angie gave an excited squeal and engulfed Ginny in a hug.

"You're better, thank god, I was going insane in classes—" She laughed and threw her arms around Ginny again. "I was so worried…"

"Thanks, Mom," Ginny quirked, and Angie rolled her eyes, smiling. Ginny's face fell and she bit her lip. "Corey?"

Angie's eyes grew sad. "I'm sorry. He's being a douche. He looks really, really exhausted in classes, though."

Ginny nodded, her eyes stinging. Corey just didn't come? After she almost died? Ginny hadn't thought he was that angry…maybe he agreed with Romulus, maybe she should just die…

Her heart froze. She wasn't suicidal. She couldn't be.

She wouldn't be.

Ever.

* * *

"GINNY!" a voice that made Ginny's heart warm shouted.

"SEAMUS!" Ginny screamed, a wild smile on her face. She rushed to him, jumped on him, wrapped her legs around his waist, and kissed him.

Right in the middle of the grounds.

The stars twinkled overhead.

Nobody was present but them.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get to you during the day, I had detention and—and someone was talking about you so I got into a fight and got double detention—and McGonagall had to speak to me after dinner—and—and—and—you're okay!"

* * *

Ginny smiled softly. Seamus thought she looked absolutely breathtaking: her red hair framing her lovely, fresh face; sparkling chestnut eyes crowned with long black lashes; rosy cheeks from the cold and pinkish ears. Ginny was the most beautiful girl Seamus had ever laid eyes on, and she was his.

"I messed up Romulus Malfoy," he admitted. Seamus wasn't ashamed, just nervous about her reaction. "I saw him in the halls and just launched myself at him. Punched him a few times, knocked out three teeth, gave him two black eyes. I'm—not sorry, just…"

Ginny snuggled up closer to him; Seamus closed his eyes and breathed in her warmth.

"I would've beaten him, but I was confined to my bed," she whispered, and Seamus laughed. "Is that who you got in a fight with?"

"No," Seamus confessed. "That was Corey Jameson." He saw her face fall, her gorgeous smile slipping off of her face.

"Corey?" she repeated in disbelief.

"Yeah. He said...well, he said you should've fallen."

Ginny looked absolutely crushed. Crumpled like a piece of fallen parchment.

_"What?"_ she hissed, very pale.

"I know. I said, 'You shut your filthy mouth; you two are best friends!' and then started hitting him too. Two people in one day—and they both deserved it."

Ginny nodded dazedly. "Yeah. You know what? I'm tired of chasing after Corey, walking on eggshells to make sure he doesn't throw a tantrum. So what I don't tell him everything! So what I get letters! He doesn't need to know everything!"

Seamus squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I know, babe, just forget him. He's not worth your time."

He connected their lips gently, but Ginny seized him and pushed her tongue into his mouth, and she was a fiery inferno, a blazing fury, channeling anger and passion into her lips. It electrified Seamus, and he came alive; his hands fisting in her hair, cupping her cheek, sliding down to her waist. Ginny pulled herself onto Seamus's lap, her lips so soft but so rough against Seamus's. He gasped into her mouth and Ginny exploded. Her touch was like lightning and Seamus loved it. He drank up every whisper her lips formed, keeping her so, so close against him, holding her, loving her. His lips found the soft skin of her neck. He couldn't stop, he wouldn't stop. He wanted to kiss Ginny forever.

But sadly, he couldn't. She pulled away gently, her neck adorned with love bites. Seamus smiled drunkenly.

"I love you," she whispered, like it was a secret. "I love you, and I've never told anyone that. Ever."

"I love you too, Gin," Seamus murmured back. She had no idea how much he loved her.

* * *

He was going to make sure nobody ever stole her away. Nobody.

* * *

They lay on their backs and looked up at the night sky. Ginny pointed out constellations to him, like Orion and Hercules and the Big Dipper.

"They're as bright as you," Seamus told her, and Ginny only laughed.

She rolled over on her side, her cheek pressed against the earth, her hand finding Seamus's sweaty fingers. "We should head up to the castle. It's nearly one in the morning."

"So?" he asked sadly.

Ginny smiled softly. "We have classes tomorrow. We don't want to get caught, though." Ginny grabbed her broomstick. "We'll fly up to my window."

Seamus smiled. He loved her insane ideas that always seemed to work.

* * *

It was too bad all of this sweetness would have to end.

* * *

Ginny felt a rush of affection toward Seamus. He was there, he was with her, and he was what Corey should've been. Ginny loved him so much in that moment—it was like everything was blurry, and then there was Seamus.

* * *

Corey peered out the window of his dormitory. It was one o'clock and they were still down there fooling around! Anger and jealousy welled up inside of him and he was full to bursting. He wanted to throw something at Seamus, take Ginny's hand, and fly away with her—somewhere nobody would ever find them. He knew exactly what Ginny would say, too: "There's nobody to catch us now."

_there's nobody to catch us now_

He played these words over and over. He could hear her lovely voice shaping the syllables as though they were arches in the sounds themselves; her soft pinks lips forming the letters and her tongue flicking her _th_'s and _tch_'s; the corners of her mouth rising into a smile—a secretive smile, like she could show no one else her joy. Corey was so lustful. He wanted her, god did he want her.

He was in love with her.

And he was also very, very much screwed.

He ran his hands through his hair, rethinking everything he'd done. He'd pushed too far. Ginny bent as far as she wanted to. If she broke, it was because she decided she couldn't bend any farther. And Corey pushed too hard. He dove too deep, and now he couldn't get up for air. He was trapped.

The only way to make things right was to talk to her.

Corey's insides prickled—he hadn't been there after she nearly died. **he hadn't been there.** And he couldn't let himself forget it, either. He hated himself for not showing. Seamus had practically lived in there, and Corey had holed up in his dormitory, making colors flash out of his wand to distract himself.

It did nothing whatsoever.

She probably loathed him. She probably wouldn't speak to him again.

She probably wanted to forget all about him.

He sure did.

* * *

Ginny and Seamus flew up to Seamus's dormitory first. Seamus undid the lock, kissed Ginny hard and fast, and hopped into the room. Ginny sped off, leaving Seamus to watch her mane of gorgeous red hair trailing behind her like fire.

Seamus crept toward his bunk.

And someone shouted a spell—_"Levicorpus!"—_and Seamus was left dangling in the air helplessly.

The lights flickered on. Dean Thomas, Ron Weasley, and (holding a wand) Corey Jameson stood there. Dean was biting back a smile; Ron seemed a bit disgusted, and Corey—oh, Corey—was red-faced and seething.

"YOU LITTLE—" Ron had to restrain Corey from leaping onto Seamus. "YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST GO ONTO THE GROUNDS AT ONE IN THE MORNING AND KISS GINNY?"

"Mate, she's my sister," Ron said, sounding pained. "But dangling her boyfriend in the air? This isn't gonna make Ginny change her mind. She's stubborn."

"Let him down, Corey," Dean said. When Corey refused, Ron murmured the countercurse and Seamus landed flat on his back on the floor. Dean started laughing.

"THIS IS NOT A TIME TO LAUGH!" Corey screeched, positively mad. "THIS IS A TIME TO THROW SEAMUS OUT THE WINDOW!"

Ron started laughing too. "Calm down—"

"NO!" Corey screamed, pacing. "I screwed up, don't you see that? I screwed up! I wasn't there for Gin and I'm supposed to be her best friend and she almost died and I didn't come and visit her! I can't live with myself right now! I pushed her too hard with the letters and she hates me now! She loves Seamus and not me!" Corey sat down, seeming very lightheaded. Tearfully, he looked up at Seamus.

"Well, mate, you weren't very kind with her earlier, y'know, chucking her to the ground and all. I don't think she liked that very much. Down there…well…she said she wasn't gonna chase after you anymore. She didn't want you to throw fits over little things. She said she was tired of it. I would be too. I'm not saying you can't get back on her good side, mate. But it's gonna take some effort. She's furious."

Corey sniffled; it was so pathetic, Seamus felt bad for him. He was really attached to Ginny.

"You really wanna make up with her, don't you?"

Corey mumbled something incoherent.

"What was that?"

"He said—he really wants to make _out_ with her," Dean sniggered.

Seamus felt blood rush to his face. This was about more than Corey and Ginny being friends again. It was about Corey being in _love_ with Ginny.

"What?"

"So maybe I have a bit of a crush on Ginny! I don't care. She's mad. She doesn't love me." Corey climbed into his bunk and pulled the covers up, rolling over so that he was facing the wall.

Seamus wanted to pity Corey, but felt more hatred toward him. Corey had always been alright, seeing as he was Ginny's best friend, but now he'd gone and gotten himself into a row with her and then decided he could just spy on them and hang Seamus up in the air. Everything was happening very quickly, and Seamus didn't like it. He didn't like Corey chasing after Ginny, either.

* * *

He needed to do something.

On Sunday, Ginny discovered she had gotten two letters from Harry while she'd been out in the hospital. Both of them were fairly short.

* * *

**Letter 1**

* * *

_Dear Ginerva,_

_Hello, me again. Your alcoholic pen-pal. I'm glad we've cleared things up—although I haven't yet received an answer to my questions? I'd quite like one, if you don't mind. _

_ The rum I'm currently drinking is delicious. I'd send you some, but you might get in trouble._

(This made Ginny's stomach tumble and tie itself in knots. He actually thought she wanted a drink? She'd never drunk anything besides butterbeer, and that was hardly alcohol.)

_ I'm sitting in the Three Broomsticks. Don't you just love that place? It's lovely and warm and always full of chatty people—although most people come here to interview me. I don't know why I show up anymore, do you? No, of course you don't. Haha._

(Ginny realized why the words were all over the page and why he had written so weirdly—he had been drunk.)

_I think we need to talk. Face-to-face. Oooh, I heard Ron's brothers invented a Transportation Soda! Just think of where you'd like to go and you'll be there! Maybe I'll mix some with the fine wine that I got yesterday and come visit you in your dormitory._

_Hopefully I'll see you soon!_

_I love you,_

_Harry _

* * *

Ginny felt sick. He would actually drink the Transportation Soda and come visit her? When? Was he actually planning to? And he had ended his letter with an "I love you". This struck her as very odd. But she was focusing on other things. He couldn't just show up in Hogwarts and start talking to her, could he? No. Yes? She was so anxious.

She folded up the letter and set it on the floor below her.

* * *

**Letter 2**

* * *

_Dear Ginerva,_

_Oh god._

_ I'm so sorry about that last letter. I realize what I wrote and sent to you, and I'm utterly humiliated. I had a bit too much rum—which happens daily, but I shouldn't have written to you. I won't take any Transportation Soda. That's the stupidest idea I've ever heard._

_ There is, however, another option._

_ You've got a Hogsmeade visit in about a week, Ginerva._

_ I'll meet you there, if you come._

_ I also haven't gotten a letter back, which makes me feel like I scared you off. I really, really hope I haven't scared you off. You get me, Ginerva. I really love how you make me feel, like I'm not an outcast. _

_ I'm sorry._

_Hogsmeade next Friday?_

_-Harry_

* * *

Ginny sighed in relief. He wasn't just going to pop into Hogwarts and start talking to her. He wasn't going to do anything foolish. He was fine.

And she would definitely go see him in Hogsmeade.

She was so curious, just so curious. She wanted to know about Harry. She wasn't afraid. She wanted to get to know him. She wanted to be real, face-to-face friends.

She put her quill to her parchment, found the questions he'd written, and started to scribble.

* * *

_Dear Harry,_

_Hello! It's me, Ginny. Back and better than ever._

_ A lot of things have happened:_

_I almost died. Long story, but I'll shorten it: Romulus Malfoy pushed me off my broom during a Quidditch match and I fell, but thankfully levitated myself about thirty feet above the ground. I had to stay in the hospital wing for about two weeks, which is why I didn't write back._

_I'm dating Seamus Finnigan. I know you know him._

_Corey, my best friend, didn't show up to the hospital wing after I almost died. I don't think he likes me anymore—and I've decided I don't really like him either. He kept wanting to read your letters, kept asking who sent them, kept pestering me about them…and then when I refused to tell him, he threw a temper tantrum. I'm sick of him acting like a two-year-old, you know? _

_We won the Quidditch match I almost died in._

_The Enchanted Ball is in two weeks, and I'm really excited. Seamus is taking me. _

_I'D LOVE TO SEE YOU IN HOGSMEADE!_

_ I've also answered your questions!_

_ I remember completely what you were like at Hogwarts: a hero. You were everyone's role model. I wanted you to notice little, insignificant Ginny Weasley, and when you didn't, I realized that it wasn't because you didn't want to—it was because I wasn't noticeable. Period. I had isolated myself from everyone—and because of you, I broke out of my shell. But yes, you were always the hero, always saving someone or something. I admired you so greatly._

_ My reaction? First, confusion. I thought you surely could seek professional help! Then I thought harder. Nobody would help you, would they? They'd sell your secrets to the media as though they were potion ingredients. So then I sympathized with you and wrote back. Little did I know these letters would mean so much to me._

_ My favorite song? I've got too many to count. I often listen to Muggle bands like All Time Low, Fall Out Boy, Green Day, 5 Seconds of Summer…but still, my favorite wizarding song is "Magic Wand" by the Weird Sisters._

_ My favorite color is a very complex color: the deep, rich blue of the late-night sky just before it decides to turn black. It's almost velvety. It's a smooth, flowing color. I love that color so much. It's not indigo, but a royal blue. Eloquent. God, I sound like such a nerd. But it's true. I love color._

_ My favorite food is anything my mum makes. I love steak, but also waffles and strawberries, mashed potatoes and chocolate-dipped peaches. Very odd combinations, but delicious._

_ And I'll give you a bonus answer: my favorite celebrity is you._

_SEE YOU NEXT FRIDAY!_

_Sincerely, Ginny_

* * *

"Who're you writing to?" a voice snarled.

Ginny whirled around to find a fuming Seamus standing in the doorway.

"Nobody. It's a poem." She covered the papers with her hand. "What's the matter?"

"Corey Jameson. Corey Jameson is the problem! He's in love with you, Ginny."

Ginny furrowed her eyebrows. "What? Seamus, you smell like alcohol, are you okay—?"

"I'm fine, Gin," Seamus said, eyes cold. "Although Corey said you're getting letters."

"No, I told you that before—"

"I WANT TO KNOW WHO THEY'RE FROM!" Seamus shouted, and Ginny flinched.

"Nobody, Sea, they're poems! I wrote them, I'm writing them for you!"

"LIAR!" Seamus screamed, advancing on her. "YOU'RE CHEATING ON ME, AREN'T YOU?"

"No!" Ginny whimpered. "No, Sea, I'm not cheating! I wouldn't cheat!" She could smell the firewhiskey on his breath as he drew closer. "Sea, please, I promise!"

Seamus smacked her so hard she felt stars pop in front of her eyes. She stumbled backward, hit her head on her bunk. "Sea, no. Stop!"

He pressed his lips to hers roughly, throwing her onto the mattress. She squirmed under him, screaming, but realized the _Muffliato _charm had been cast on her dormitory. She was alone with a monster, a monster she hadn't believed existed.

"HELP!" Ginny screeched, beating her fists against Seamus's chest. His hands were everywhere on her skin, and she hated him. How could this—this—_demon_ be the same guy who kissed her under the stars?

Seamus had entangled her in his web, and now he, the spider, was ready to feast on the trapped and helpless butterfly.

Seamus's lips were like poison, not the warm, honey-like sensation Ginny had experienced before. She wanted him off and she wanted him off _now!_

Seamus was stronger, though, much too strong. She struggled and screamed, but nobody could hear her. Nobody but Seamus, who reeked of firewhiskey.

She felt herself black out from everything going on.

* * *

When she awoke, Seamus was sitting next to her, half-asleep. When she stirred, he jerked and woke up.

"Please let me go," Ginny croaked, throat raw.

"If you tell anyone I'll put the Imperius Curse on you—or kill you. You tell no one." He rubbed his chin. "I love you, Ginny. I can't let anyone take you away from me."

Ginny's stomach twisted itself into knots and she had to swallow the bile that made her throat sour. "Okay," she whispered as Seamus's rough lips slammed against her own.

* * *

She slipped out of her room and immediately threw up in the corridor. _"Evanesco," _she murmured, cleaning up her mess. She felt dizzy and sick to her stomach. Everything last night was too blurry to think about—but Seamus had fooled her.

He had fooled her into believing that he was kind and caring and that he actually loved her. He had tricked her into a false sense of security: he was not a gentle and loving person. He was a complete and utter demon disguised under a mask of calm.

She had followed her desperate heart instead of her warning brain. Her brain had been clouded by lust.

* * *

**There was a sociopath inside of the castle.**

_Professor Dumbledore—_

And then Ginny remembered:

Seamus would either control her or kill her.

She ran her hands through her matted hair.

_how did she escape?_

* * *

Corey took a deep breath. Ginny was right there, right in front of him. Professor Binns was in the middle of his monologue on escapees from Azkaban. This was a perfect time for a conversation.

But when he looked closely, he could see bruises littering her neck—he wanted to vomit at those—but also her arms and her legs. Jesus. He wanted to smack Seamus silly.

Although, there were also red marks, violently standing out against her porcelain skin. Those seemed strange. There were numerous scarlet slashes peeking out from her shoulders.

Something was very, very wrong.

He reached out and tapped Ginny.

She turned around slowly, as though she was aching. Tears filled her eyes. Her face was puffy and her lips were swollen. "Hi, Corey," she whispered.

"Gin," he said, his eyes stinging. She looked absolutely powerless.

He didn't ask what happened.

He just squeezed her hand under his desk.

* * *

After History of Magic, Ginny flung herself into Corey's arms and started to sob. "Last n-n-night," she whimpered, sounding like an injured animal.

Someone cleared their throat somewhere behind Corey, and Ginny's eyes went wide with fear. "L-L-Last night I r-r-realized that I w-w-wasn't mad at y-y-you anymore," she cried, sobbing harder. "I'm s-s-sorry, C-C-Corey. You have a r-r-right to know."

Corey hugged her tightly. "I'm sorry too, Gin. I don't need to know about the letters. I pushed you too hard. I'm so sorry I didn't show up at the hospital wing."

All of this was very unexpected. Over the past three weeks Ginny had been absolutely furious with him—now she was just pushing it all out of the way. Corey didn't mind one bit. He just wanted his Ginny back.

* * *

She continued to cry until they reached the Gryffindor common room. Then she abruptly cut off her wails and dried her eyes. "Would you mind c-casting a Cheering Ch-Charm on me?" she stuttered. "God knows I c-could do with a laugh."

Corey smiled wanly at her and cast the spell. It was as though a large weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Her eyes brightened and her face sprung into a smile. "Thanks."

She gave him a hug and walked off, flashing a grin at Angie.

Corey was confused, but nevertheless extremely pleased.


	6. Chapter 6

_**owl post**_

_**(a harry potter story)**_

* * *

Ginny was so happy to be friends with Corey again, but it came with serious consequences.

* * *

Seamus had stumbled into her empty dormitory and screamed about Corey, but did what he normally did and then kissed her, muttering how much he loved her as he went.

She had sat on her bed, pulling her socks on—or attempting to, but her hands shook so tremendously that she ended up flinging it across the room, erupting into ugly, choking cries. She hated herself. She hated herself for falling into Seamus's trap. She hated herself for being helpless.

But at least she had Corey back.

After about a week of being friends with Corey, her days had perked up. Plus, the Hogsmeade trip was only two days away. She was counting down the days til she could actually meet Harry.

Seamus was ruining her life, though.

She needed to get rid of him. She needed to tell someone, but Seamus was everywhere—when she tried to tell Angie about what was going on, Seamus slithered his arm around her. When she attempted to talk to Corey, Seamus pecked her cheek. When she had stopped in the hall to chance a word with Ron, Seamus had run his fingers through her hair.

Nothing worked.

What disgusted her was that he _lived_ with it. He showed up to class smiling and bubbly, a mask of serenity and happiness painted on his face. Perhaps he _was_ serene and happy—perhaps he could actually be happy while hurting Ginny so terribly.

Harry was her escape, though.

She could talk to him in Hogsmeade. She could finally pour out her troubles to him. She could finally get things off her chest.

* * *

A letter arrived on the day before her Hogsmeade trip. Ginny felt panic strike her, seeing as Harry stated that he would not be writing her before the face-to-face meeting.

* * *

_Dear Ginerva,_

_Oh my god, I'm so sorry._

_ I can't make it to Hogsmeade tomorrow._

_ I can't do it._

_ I'm sorry._

_ I'm such a mistake, aren't I? I'm sure you were excited. I was excited. God I hate myself. I hate myself._

_ Don't go looking for me. I can't make it. I'm so sorry. You hate me, don't you? I hate me. I hate me a lot._

_ I would hate me._

_ I'm drunk and I'm pissed. I'm just a mistake. I'm so sorry, Ginerva. You deserve a better pen-pal. God, I make so many promises. I promise myself not to drink and I drink. I promise myself not to cut and I cut. I promise myself not to scream and I scream. I'm sorry, Ginerva._

_ I'm just really sorry._

* * *

First, there was numbness.

Ginny felt as though she had been struck in the chest. She couldn't breathe. She forgot how to breathe. Her lungs were collapsing. Her heart was the only thing that reminded her she was alive, and it clattered around her ribcage. Blood pounded in her ears.

Then, there was absolute pandemonium.

Ginny wanted to scream, but she couldn't. She wasn't even mad about Hogsmeade—disappointed, yes, but not mad—it was that Harry was hurting himself and that he hated himself and _THAT WAS HOW SHE WAS FEELING._

_**SHE UNDERSTOOD WHAT WAS GOING ON**_

_** SHE GOT IT COMPLETELY**_

Words could not describe how Ginny felt. It was as though lightning was crackling around inside of her. She was full of this strange rush to see Harry.

She needed to see him.

Her breath hitched in her throat and she felt like running a mile. She got what he was thinking. Finally, the moment not of sympathy, but _**empathy.**_ She was excited, in a very, very depressing sort of way, and it electrified her.

She had to scream, she had to scream.

* * *

_Dear Harry,_

_I GET WHAT YOU'RE GOING THROUGH, DON'T YOU SEE?_

_ I can't explain through a simple, twenty-six character alphabet because even the most beautiful combinations of these paints cannot create the picture I want to show you._

_ Please, Harry, we need to meet. We need to._

_ I understand you._

_ PLEASE DO NOT CUT HARRY I CAN'T LOSE YOU._

_ I love you so much, Harry. You're one of my absolute best friends. You know so much about me. I love you so much, Harry, you're my best friend. You can't leave me._

_ DO NOT CUT _

_ Come to me. I'll be there instead of the pain. Let me help. When you feel like cutting, write to me—or just write my name over and over again. Just do whatever you need to—whatever to keep you from hurting your wonderful self _

_xx, _

_Ginny_

* * *

Harry took a deep breath.

It felt so good to be free of Durmstrang.

Yes.

He had broken out.

* * *

He was so glad Ginerva hadn't gotten what he had accidentally let slip. He didn't want her to panic.

But now she was, of course she was. She had to be. She had to be nervous because of him—_oh my god how many times could he mess up_

He loved Ginerva.

He was in love with a girl he had only written to.

He had never seen her face.

He had never uttered a word to her.

He had only put his thoughts on a paper, trusting her to read them.

And now he wasn't even going to show up to see her.

He took a long sip from his bottle. This alcohol was stronger—and he was glad. He needed to clear his head. He reached for his wand and carefully sliced his wrist, watching beads of blood gather on his wrist. Not bothering to seal up the cut, he set down his wand.

Suddenly angry, he seized it again. "I hate myself I hate myself," he muttered.

_**Harry! We're back!**_

_Oh no, not you! _Harry thought.

Every time Harry got like this—drunk and angry and sad and full to bursting with self-hate—the little voices inside of his head pounded. He always heard them, but especially when he was lying on rock-bottom.

_**Oh yes! We missed you. Did you miss us?**_

_No no no no go away go away_

Harry smacked himself so hard that he thought he knocked out his tooth. "Get out," he whispered, putting his hands over his ears.

_**Haha, funny joke! We're a part of you, Harry. We're not going anywhere! **_

_Leave me the hell alone you bastards_

_**Calling yourself a bastard, eh? Nice one, you drunkard!**_

_Go AWAY_

_**No, and you're a shitty negotiator, you know that?**_

Harry screamed. He screamed inside the old abandoned apartment building that was his home now. He screamed for every drink he'd ever poured down his throat, every time he let Ginerva down. He screamed until his sore throat burned and blistered and it hurt to breathe.

_Good, _he thought, panting. _You deserve it._

* * *

Harry woke up; his head feeling like it was full of cotton and his tongue bone-dry. Coughing slightly, he nearly passed out again at the sight of his bloody wrists. "Too many," he said to himself.

Harry talked to himself frequently. It kept him from going insane from loneliness.

"I need to start cutting somewhere else," he said. "Maybe legs? No, they're already scarred. Stomach. Yes, stomach. Just not too deep. You have to keep writing back to Ginerva."

"No, just stop writing to her altogether!" he moaned back to himself. "You're ruining everything for her. She's got a normal life and you're an utterly screwed-up mess of tears and alcohol and blood. You're nothing, Harry. You're nothing. Nothing."

Hedwig hooted softly. "Not now, Hedwig," Harry mumbled. "Not now, not now." She clicked her beak. "What?" Harry growled, and saw Ginerva's lovely barn owl pecking at the windowsill.

_**Not her. We don't like her.**_

"SHUT UP!" Harry bellowed, shoving his hands over his ears, screaming once. When he stopped, the voices were quiet. "Thank god," he muttered, stumbling over to the owl, who fluttered her wings nervously. "I'm stable," Harry told it, and then laughed. "I wish I was. I'm shaky as hell right now."

_This is my worst day so far, _he thought. His mind was slowly deteriorating from the alcohol. He had overindulged on drinks too many times, smoked his cigarette too frequently. He was, in short, going insane.

_ I'm so sorry, Ginerva, I'm normally so much better._

As if she could hear him.

As if she would listen.

He read the letter, her soft words sinking into his skin, clearing his head. Her. Her, Ginerva.

She was like the best anti-depressant out there.

* * *

Harry had sat there for awhile, reading and rereading her letter. God, he imagined her so beautifully. Striking red hair, piercing brown eyes. Who says brown eyes are boring? Harry found them so fascinating—deep and mysterious in the dark, sparkling and bright in the light. He loved brown eyes. She'd be slim, since Seekers are normally very small. She'd love pranks and strange Muggle things, like Ron. She'd be smart and love books like Hermione. She'd laugh a lot and love animals, like Hagrid. She'd wouldn't play games with you or hide things.

And Harry knew she was all of these things and more. He didn't care if she turned out to be bald with eighteen fingers—she'd be beautiful to him.

"Ginerva, Ginerva." Her name rolled off of his tongue. He wouldn't call her Gin—that was much too painful and would drive him crazy. Ginny didn't suit her. She was no longer a child. She needed a proper, lovely name. Ginerva was exactly the name that was right for her.

He felt an overwhelming urge to cut.

_Sectumsempra _was already coming out of his mouth, his fingers on his wand—

_ Sectumsempra doesn't belong on the lips you just spoke her name with, _he thought angrily. She didn't deserve that. Harry would hang the moon for her if she asked. She deserved everything whole and beautiful.

She had also said she knew exactly how he felt. What did she mean? Realizing the full meaning of her words, fear smacked him across the face. He had to write back—but he was so dizzy, and so sleepy…his head was clear, and for the first time in a very long time he fell asleep feeling like he wanted to wake up in the morning.

* * *

"_Harry! Harry, oh my god, it's you!"_

_ Her voice was beautiful even when shrill. _

_ "Ginerva!" he called. Everything was very dark. It was as though a sweaty palm had been planted over his eyes. "Ginerva, where are you?"_

_ "I—I missed you! You're here! I can't believe it, Harry!" Ginerva started crying. "I—I love you, please don't hurt yourself! I love you!"_

_ Harry felt his heart swell. He was so nervous that it might pop, that he would be left with a deflated heart and Ginerva would dissipate._

_ And then someone removed the hand over his face, and everything was bright and beautiful. He was sitting near the lake at Hogwarts. Everything seemed to be in sharper color—the lake's pale sky blue; the grass's rippling emerald green; the lovely warm orange of the tulips near trees that glittered, their leaves coated in shimmering dew._

_ The most beautiful sight, however, was sitting ride beside him._

_ Her eyes were the color of caramel: brown with flecks of gold, prying into his dull green ones. Her hair trickled down her back like a fiery scarlet waterfall. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, freckles painting the bridge of her nose. Her lips were a light pink, pursed slightly, her teeth and tongue just visible behind them. Her eyelashes framed those shining caramel eyes. Her smile made Harry's head spin more than any amount of firewhiskey._

_ "Harry," she whispered, and her voice drove him insane._

_ He seized her and she dissolved between his fingertips._

* * *

Harry woke up with a feeling of strange hope inside of him. He hummed as he cleaned up his room and he even combed his hair for the first time in awhile (it didn't stay flat). He showered and ate a good breakfast. Ginerva occupied his thoughts. She was the best thing to happen to him in a long time.

Hedwig seemed a bit more cheerful as well, not snapping her beak at him as normal. She was a good owl, and she was his only companion most days.

Harry put his quill to his parchment and begun to write, ignoring the nagging voices that were feebly whispering in his ear.

_**Put the quill down.**_

_** Put it down.**_

_** She doesn't care, you idiot! She hates you!**_

_** That dream, yeah? That dream was pathetic, you wimp.**_

_** Put the damn quill down and stop writing to her! Throw yourself off a bridge, you worthless, dirty—**_

Harry didn't hear a single word.

He was too busy scribbling a response to Ginerva.

* * *

Harry sucked his quill thoughtfully. "Hmm," he said aloud. "Hmm."

There was a gentle knock at his door. He stood, puzzled, and opened it cautiously, in fear of paparazzi.

_"Harry!" _Cho Chang shrieked, throwing herself into his arms. Harry, very taken aback, awkwardly patted the older girl's head.

"Um…hello?" Harry said, brows furrowed. "Why are you here?" He would not forget the previous encounters they had.

"I'm—I'm—I'm—" she wailed, beating her fists against Harry's back. The entire thing was very overdramatic to Harry. "I'm so s-s-sorry about what h-h-happened to y-y-you!" Tears spilled over her eyelashes.

"What, now that whatever boy you were with dumped you, you came running to me? If that's the case, go away."

Cho stopped crying abruptly and looked up at him. A slow, sly smile slid onto her face—sultry and (poorly) sexy. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"What do you want, Cho?"

"You," she said, her voice low. "I want you, Harry. I realized what I was missing out on. I really do find you attractive." Her smile widened, her eyes glinting dangerously. She sat down on the couch and patted the spot beside her. "Sit."

"No," Harry protested. "Leave. You're not welcome. I don't love you."

Cho laughed. "Yes you do. Poor wittle forf-yeaw Hawwy had a crushie on Cho. Don't deny it." She got up and sauntered over to Harry. Her perfume was dizzying. She ran a finger down his chest. "You've gotten so…dark. I love it." She grabbed his collar and yanked him closer. She attached their mouths, her tongue slipping inside of his mouth. She pushed him onto the couch. His numb fingertips brushed his wand and he gripped it tightly, pointing it at her.

_"Stupefy!" _Harry yelled, and Cho slumped to the ground, her hands halfway to Harry's shirt.

Breathing hard, Harry grabbed Hedwig, the little money he had left, his cigarettes, and his coat, turned on his heel, and left.

* * *

He took off running for Hogwarts.


	7. Chapter 7

_**owl post**_

_**(a harry potter story)**_

* * *

_Dear Ginerva,_

_I don't think you realize what a savior you are._

_ You, quite literally, saved my life._

_ I don't think I can hang on for much longer without you with me. You're the only person who knows the real me._

_ I think I'm in love with you, Ginerva._

_ Every time I write your name a little pocket of warmth explodes inside of me. You make me feel normal. _

_ My letters are getting shorter and shorter. I don't like that, Ginerva, so I'm going to write a poem down._

_ "His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,_

_ His hair is as black as a blackboard,_

_ I wish he were mine, he's really divine_

_ The hero who conquered the Dark Lord."_

_ Ha, ha. Do you remember that? I do. It was so adorable—you with your cute little flushed cheeks, wild hair, and soft voice. You were so cute as a child, Ginerva._

_ You must be beautiful now._

_Oo,_

_Harry_

* * *

Ginny felt a tear slip down her face.

He was so sweet, so caring. He cared for her. He complimented her. He made her feel okay about her hectic, horrible life at Hogwarts.

Harry was everything she wanted.

_In a best friend._

She clutched the letter tightly; her tears making the ink bleed. _Stop crying, _Ginny told herself. _Don't cry. You can't cry._

And yet she did.

She sobbed. She bawled her eyes out. She screamed internally.

_Harry is a light in the dark._

_ Harry is in love with me._

_ Am I in love with Harry?_

_ Goddamn it._

* * *

Seamus knocked at the dormitory door. He always showed up with the dormitory was empty. It was as though he had memorized her schedule—Ginny was often in her dormitory during free periods. Sometimes she made a jaunt to the library, but she couldn't stand the mustiness of it. Hermione was appalled at this thought and suggested Ginny simply get lost in a book. Ginny was no good at reading. Ginny would also hop on her broomstick some days and fly around the pitch, practicing with ping-pong balls, but most times she couldn't get permission from Madam Hooch.

So often she curled up in her dormitory with a different book from the musty library, reading. Nowadays she wandered all over the school, watching for Seamus. It was exhausting and numbing, but also exhilarating. She was like a superspy, evading capture. It was like a little girl's storybook coming to life: the damsel in distress flees from the villain while her prince charming is just out of reach.

She always would creep back into her dormitory, though, because she couldn't just run all over the castle—Filch would get furious and tell her off for "loitering".

So Ginny wrapped herself in blankets and stuffed her face into her pillow. _I'm asleep. I'm asleep. I'm asleep. _She prayed he wouldn't think her awake.

"Gin? Are you up?" he asked, so softly. Her heart damn near ripped in two. She had to convince herself she _**HATED**_ him.

_I hate you. I hate you, Seamus. I hate you._

But Ginny couldn't forget the ghost of him, the ghost she loved so dearly. The one who made her feel magical for awhile. Ginny wanted to forgive him.

She couldn't, though.

She couldn't look him in the goddamn eyes.

He believed he was keeping her away, keeping her to himself. But instead he was just hurting her repeatedly, making her blood boil. She wanted to expose the real Seamus, the Seamus she had fallen in love with. _He must be mentally insane, _Ginny thought as he moved closer to her bed. She tried to calm herself.

_"Muffliato," _he murmured.

_ He wouldn't._

Seamus's fingers brushed her collar.

_He wouldn't._

He lifted her from the bunk.

_He wouldn't._

He set her down on the floor.

_He would._

* * *

Corey watched as Ginny took a seat in Herbology.

"Gin—?"

She looked at him and his world collapsed.

Her eyes were deadened and red, but no tears were present (this embedded a glinting jewel of fear in his heart—she was too numb to cry. She _could not cry. _Crying was a sign of emotion, a cry for help. Ginny could do nothing). Her lips were puffy and swollen. Her neck was bruised, her arms bruised, her cheek bruised. Her collarbone was bright red. Numerous crescent-shaped fingernail indentations lined her skin. She looked like she had been brutally beaten and then kissed.

A horrible lightbulb flicked on in Corey's head.

Not—_**Seamus?!**_

"Ginny," Corey said seriously, as Professor Sprout wasn't in the greenhouse yet. "What the hell is happening?"

She bit her lip and a fresh bead of blood squeezed out between her teeth, staining them red.

"I can't tell you," she whispered, her voice raw. She sounded like she'd been screaming in vain. "I'm so sorry, Corey." Her eyes remained dry, and Corey was full of blinding panic.

"Ginny. I need to help you. This isn't like the letters. If you're getting physically hurt—"

"It's…not intentional…it's accidents…Qu-Quidditch…"

Corey took her by the shoulders, looking into her hollow brown eyes, the eyes that lost their normally burning fire, now replaced with a flickering, sputtering, dying tongue of fire—

"Ginny," Corey whispered, his voice cracking with tears. "I love you, and I can't see you like this."

Ginny threw her arms around him and he hugged her tightly, holding her close. He wanted to embrace her and stick all of her rough jagged edges back into the beautiful, lovely Ginny he knew.

"I'll—I'll—I'll tell you at dinner," she said, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Corey saw that she needed help, and he would do whatever it took to get the love of his life back on her feet.

* * *

Herbology was a noisy experience that day. The Enchanted Ball was only three days away. Corey wanted to work up the confidence to ask Ginny—but that hardly mattered now. Her eyes were rimmed with a heavy grayish purplish color. She looked like she was being forced to carry a dragon on her back. Corey wondered in vain if this had something to do with the letters. She had acted like this for a very brief period of time when they first arrived, but admittedly had recovered quickly. Again, the thought _"who are the letters from?" _floated across Corey's mind.

"Ginny—I know it doesn't matter," Corey said quietly, "but would you like to come to the Enchanted Ball with me?"

A hush fell over the greenhouse. A few girls clutched at each other, squealing, while the boys talked amongst themselves.

"Oooh, Ginny! Ginny, aren't you with Seamus?" Tara Armstrong asked. "You must be attending with him, right?"

Ginny shook her head and shot a weak smile at Corey. "I'd love to go with you, Corey." She squeezed his hand under the table and the greenhouse went into fits of chaos.

"What about Seamus, oi?" Dean called angrily. "He's going to be mad!"

Corey was filled with a cold sensation that made him shiver.

"Seamus…Seamus isn't going to the Ball," Ginny said quickly. "Seamus and I are on a break. We just need some space. Corey's my best friend—nothing romantic." The corners of her mouth turned up. "I just need a bit of cheering up."

Ginny bent her head toward her notes and started scribbling down notes on Pillary Puffs. Corey studied her. She was hiding behind her hair. Corey was thanking the heavens over and over again that Seamus was not in their Herbology class.

"So—um—what time will you pick me up?" Ginny asked softly, smiling.

Corey's heart flooded with love for Ginny. When Ginny was in public, around her friends, she was strong, sarcastic, and confident. To see her so quiet and soft was adorable to him—but it was also wrong. She should've been cracking jokes to the class, kicking Corey's feet, and doodling on her notebook. Instead she was silent.

* * *

Ginny took Corey's hand and held onto it like a vice.

Seamus was walking into the greenhouse.

"No," Ginny said, pupils dilated with nothing but icy fear. "He—He—"

"He's the one hurting you," Corey said in a low voice.

Ginny nodded.

Corey felt a red tinge settle over his eyes. Nothing—_nothing_—but rage seeped through his bones, into his bloodstream, pounding in his ears. He wanted to rip Seamus apart and chuck him off a cliff into a boiling vat of lava filled with Blast-Ended Skrewts. He wanted to give his goddamn worthless life nothing but hell. He deserved nothing but hell. He deserved _nothing. _His filthy self didn't deserve to _look _at Ginny. He didn't deserve to _touch_ Ginny. His slimy lips weren't fit to _speak her name._

"I'll kill him," Corey said.

The scary thing was, he meant it.

In that moment, if Seamus was in front of him, touching Ginny, Corey would've grabbed his wand and screaming the Killing Curse.

It would've worked, too.

Seamus would've lain, sprawled-eagled, on the greenhouse floor. Ginny would've screamed and pushed Corey into the wall. Professor Sprout would've Stunned him, thinking that Corey would kill more people. Professor Dumbledore would've been contacted. Aurors and Ministry officials would've arrived and taken him to a special ward in St. Mungo's. Realizing he was sane, they would've whisked him off to Azkaban after trial. He would've spent a few months in Azkaban before being released.

It's scary how much could've happened if one variable in the equation had been moved.

"Corey, it's ok-kay." Ginny was white as a sheet.

"No it's not!" Corey almost yelled—but quickly remembered Seamus was now in the greenhouse. "He's a sick bastard and he needs to go to Azkaban!"

"Oh shit, here he comes, just—don't say anything."

Seamus smiled as he sauntered over to Ginny. She smiled back. Corey was astounded by how great of an actress she was. This bastard was abusing her and she grinned at him like he'd saved her life.

"Hey, babe," he said slyly, and she giggled.

"Hey, sweetie. What're you doing here?"

"Schedule got switched. To tell you the truth, I did it for you."

Corey's insides crawled and squirmed. He had to be freaking kidding. He was a psychopath. An utter sociopath.

"So does this mean we're off a break?" Ginny squealed, her voice hopeful—and also loud enough that the rest of the greenhouse could hear.

"Um, yes?" Seamus said, confused, but still nuzzling her nose with his. "So there's a question I've been meaning to ask. Will you be my date to the Ball?"

Ginny looked at Corey painfully. "Well, you see, when we were on break I already said yes to another boy. I didn't know you wanted to go with me. I thought you didn't like me anymore." Ginny bit her lip again, all of her fake emotion and love fading into real terror. Blood spurted out of her bottom lip, smearing across her top lip.

"What?" Seamus growled. "You said yes to another guy?"

Ginny nodded.

"Excuse me, Professor Sprout? May Ginerva and I be excused? I completely forgot that Professor McGonagall requested both of us before I came here." Seamus looked at Ginny, eyes full of fire.

"Oh, alright, Finnigan. Do you have a note?"

Seamus presented a forged signature to Sprout, and that was adequate to her. Seamus took Ginny by the upper arm and dragged her out of the greenhouse, Ginny looking very pale and also very helpless.

"Professor? Bathroom?" Corey asked quickly.

"Jameson, finish your notes first."

Corey tore his parchment, he wrote so rapidly. "Done!" he half-shrieked five minutes later.

"Go on."

* * *

Corey sprinted as fast as he could up to the castle. Ducking past Filch, he searched for any sign of Ginny. After about two minutes of nerve-wracking looking, he found a small splatter of blood on the floor. Another drop winked at him a few feet in front of him. An entire trail of blood led to an empty wall in front of him. A dead end.

Where did Seamus take her? There were no windows. There were no doors.

Corey beat his fist against the wall.

_ I just want Ginny to be okay. If I could just find her, I could stop this. I need to see Ginny._

He felt hot tears pour down his face. Ginny could be dead. It could be his entire fault, too, for not being fast enough. For not reporting the facts to Professor Sprout before Seamus arrived. For not preventing Ginny from leaving the greenhouse.

Corey's hand felt cold. Maybe feeling was leaving them. Maybe he was going to freeze.

He looked up, his eyelids nearly glued together with tears.

A door had materialized in front of him.

He seized the handle and opened it.

The door swung open to reveal a dark room with only one lantern in the center.

There was Seamus.

There was Ginny.

She was bloody and cowering under him as he hit her.

_"You know how much I love you and you betray me like this?" _he screamed, smacking her across the face.

"I swear, I thought you d-d-didn't love me!" she begged. "Please, Seamus! P-P-Please d-d-don't do this!"

He kicked her in the side. _"This is punishment, you bitch! This is punishment!"_

"No, no, st-st-stop!"

Seamus raked his nails across her cheek. Blood beaded there and dripped onto Ginny's neck.

_"How could you? You belong to ME! No one else! Me! You idiot!"_

He pulled her up by the hair. She gave a bone-chilling cry of pain. Seamus pulled out his wand and absolutely roared, _"Diffindo!" _

Deep crimson blood blossomed around Ginny's lips, eyes, nose, and hairline. She looked like a puppet being torn at the seams. If Seamus kept it up, Ginny would surely be ripped to pieces—

_"STUPEFY!" _Corey screamed.

Seamus fell on top of Ginny, who gave a guttering screech, not unlike an animal in the process of dying.

"Ginny, oh my god, Ginny, Ginny…"

Corey ran over to her. She heaved and coughed up blood. It spilled over her lips and trickled onto her ruined robes. Seamus had obviously tried to tear them off.

_"What the hell was he doing to you?"_

Ginny shook her head. She was shaking so violently that it looked like she was vibrating. "H-H-He…."

Corey cradled her in his arms and ran out of the demon room as fast as he could.

* * *

"N-N-Not the hospital w-w-wing," Ginny mumbled as Corey raced to his dormitory.

"Never," Corey whispered, kissing her bloody forehead. He set her down on his bunk. "Don't worry, Gin, I can fix these cuts."

He took out his wand. Copying what he learned in DADA, he started chanting, almost as though in song. Ginny's gashes—some of which were very deep—begun to seal as though she was being stitched up. Once they were healed, Corey started cleaning the blood off of Ginny's skin.

_"Aguamenti," _he said softly, and a gentle trickle of water spewed from his wand. The rusty red stuff coating her slowly disappeared.

_ "Terego," _Corey muttered, cleaning up the water that soaked the floor.

Ginny was looking much better, but bruises flowered her body, making her look more purple than pale.

"Corey," she said through puffy lips. "Th-thank you so m-much…"

"Shh. I need to fix these bruises. _Episkey!" _

Her bruises slowly disappeared, replaced by only slightly pinker than normal skin. Her black eye also vanished. "Looks good, Gin."

"Hurts to breathe," she whimpered, clutching her side.

"Broken ribs, yeah," Corey said quietly. "I don't know if this'll help, but—_Episkey!_"

The skin revealed by her brutally slashed robes rippled slightly. She relaxed.

"Ankle?" she asked, her voice raspy.

_"Episkey!" _Corey said, smiling sadly at her. "It's a good thing I'm a master at the spell."

Her ankle straightened slightly. _"Ferula," _Corey said again, and her leg was wrapped tightly in a splint.

"Corey, I owe you my life," Ginny said in a low voice, tears sparkling at the corners of her eyes.

"I…I just can't believe…" Corey sat next to her. "I can't believe Seamus would do that."

Ginny bowed her head. "He—has been doing it for awhile. For the most part I could fix myself up enough to make it look like I'd just gotten back from an extremely rough Quidditch practice. But that time I don't think I could've. I think he would've killed me." Ginny interlocked her fingers with Corey's. "I can't thank you enough."

"You don't need to thank me, Ginny. I should've been faster to get to you—Sprout made me finish my notes before I could go to the 'bathroom'."

"D'you think anyone noticed us coming back?"

"No," Corey said immediately. "I made sure of that."

"What about classes?" Ginny asked, nervous.

"Screw classes."

Ginny gave a sad little laugh. "You can't tell anyone, you hear?"

Corey looked at her blankly. _"What?" _

She sighed. "Seamus said he'd put me under the Imperius Curse—or kill me—if I told anyone. _Do not let him know that you know about this. _He'll do terrible things to both of us. I couldn't bear to see you get hurt, Corey." She bit her lip.

"Who are the letters from, Ginny?" Corey asked softly.

Her expression hardened. "That's one thing I can't tell you, so _please_ stop asking. I do promise you that nothing bad is coming out of it."

She got up, winced, and then relaxed.

"I owe my life to you, Core," she said with a smile. "Thanks again." She kissed his cheek softly.

* * *

Ruffling his hair, she departed, leaving an immensely relieved but an enormously confused Corey Jameson.

* * *

hey guys! lauren here. i haven't done an author's note in a really long time! i just wanted to give some of my thoughts on this story so far.

-yes, it has been moving rather quickly. i kind of want to get into the main plot—these chapters have been building up to it.

-i don't know if ginny will ever meet harry, frankly. i don't know if i want that to happen because it might ruin the letter-writing between them.

-i also don't know if ginny will end up with corey or harry. there might be a few more variables in this equation to come.

thanks for reading my story! i've got over 500 reads now, that's really spectacular. i love you all. don't forget to r &amp; r about your thoughts, concerns, constructive criticism, to tell me what's up…my pm box is always open! don't be shy! xx -lauren


	8. Chapter 8

_**owl post**_

_**(a harry potter story)**_

* * *

Harry panted, sticking his hand in his jacket pocket to make sure he still had his wand. Stupid, really, that he didn't think to bring his Firebolt. After all of that rubbish with Cho, however, he wasn't thinking clearly.

He just wanted Ginerva.

He wanted to see her and hold her to his chest, engulfing his face in her scarlet hair, breathing in her smell.

If he'd only gotten to know her better when she was younger, perhaps he'd have had a chance.

Harry pulled a bit of ordinary whiskey out of his parcel. Hedwig hooted at him in a motherly sort of way.

"I need fuel for my fire," Harry explained, half-smiling. He took two shots off of it and, wiping his mouth in relish, continued onward.

He ran for about ten more minutes, but had to slow to a walk, alcohol splashing around in his stomach. By then, a large crowd had gathered and most were peeking out of windows in disgust. "There 'e goes," an older man with a noticeable limp said to his lumpy little wife. "That's 'Arry Pott'r, that is."

"I know, Gerald," the witch said, eyeing Harry with reproach as he grew closer. "Keep the grandkids away from him."

Harry tuned them out. He walked, head held high, and swigged from his whiskey. Some witches made a hacking sound at the back of their throats. He smiled at them, winking as he went, still sipping the whiskey. One witch, a young blonde in bold purple robes, grinned widely.

"Having fun?" she asked, wiggling her fingers. Harry pointed at her and she laughed. "You're crazy and I like it." She walked beside him as the crowd retreated into their homes to spy on him from there. Only about a hundred were left on the streets. It was as though he'd been very popular and then contracted a horrifying disease: people fled from him. All except the blonde.

"I've heard about you in the news," she explained, and Harry adored her sweet American accent. She sounded like she was from the north part of the USA—Harry didn't know all of the states, but there was one with a lot of lakes around it. Maybe there?

She smiled and took the bottle from him, drinking half of it in a manner that could astonish Hagrid. Harry looked at her in disbelief.

"I was taught to drink by the finest. My dad." Her eyes, the color of polished mahogany, were shining. "I like you. We're both insane, drunken maniacs—aren't we?"

Harry nodded.

"Do you even talk? Have you had a Tongue-Tying curse cast on you?" God, Harry liked her smile. She smiled a lot, and it made Harry feel like he had a friend. "My name is Bethany. Bethany Court. I'm from the great-old USA, but I moved here to get an education. Graduated two years ago, I did. I'm training to be someone who handles magical creatures and such." She ran a hand through her blonde hair. "I've got three brothers and a sister and we all look exactly alike—rough blonde hair, straight brown eyes. I don't like my brown eyes. Too boring, you hear? Anyways, my sister and I grew up tomboys. Three older brothers who like to chuck footballs around and pelt french fries at you? Hell, we didn't want any dolls, we wanted knee pads and baseballs and soccer cleats." She stopped talking abruptly. "Sorry to be spewing my life story on you."

"No, it's okay," Harry said quietly. "I don't talk much and you talk a lot. We fit together."

Bethany laughed. "You _do_ talk! God, I thought you had bitten your tongue."

"Can I have some liquor?" Harry asked, and she looked down in surprise at her hands. The brown liquid sloshed around the bottle.

"Oh, Jesus. I'm sorry. Didn't mean to go stealing your fancy-pants alcohol." Her American accent rolled off of her tongue and wrapped around Harry's head.

"I like how you talk," Harry said softly.

"God, thank you. Most people tell me to sit down and shut up." She laughed and squeezed Harry's upper arm. "I've been meaning to ask you this whole time: where the hell are you heading?"

Harry looked at her, head tilted slightly to the side. She stood like she knew she was pretty and she knew she was confident. Her hand rested on the curve between her hip and her breasts; her fingers were painted a low-key light green; her cheeks were rosy from the liquor and from walking; and her robes halted just below her thighs, revealing slender, smooth legs and feet clad with light blue sneakers. Her hair fell down the back of her shoulders, a bright golden color intertwined with sun-kissed amber.

She was gorgeous, but she wasn't for Harry.

"I'm heading to Hogwarts," he said.

"Okay," she said simply, not prying an answer out of him. "What for?"

"I'm going to see the love of my life who I haven't seen in years and just recently started writing to awhile ago and I need to see her."

* * *

Bethany pointed out the castle to Harry. She sat cross-legged with Harry on a large flat gray rock, her light-green polished nails fretting here and there as she made rapid movements with her hands.

"So, to get in you're gonna wanna go in through the secret passage," she said, drinking her root-beer-mead that she'd snagged from Madam Rosmerta. Harry had spiked his butterbeer with cherry vodka, and it bit at his tongue, but he loved it. "You can't get caught by Filch—good god, that man is absolute garbage left out in the hot sun. Anyway, getting caught by Filch equals instant turn-in to the authorities. It'll be all over the headlines: 'HARRY POTTER GETS CAUGHT SNEAKING INTO HOGWARTS.' D'you think you'll even have a chance with Miss Ginerva after that? Hell, you'll be thrown into Azkaban." She drew her wand and started drawing a plan on the rock. "So you'll sneak in through the Honeydukes passage with your Invisibility Cloak. Then you'll just crawl through the old witch's hump and go find your Ginerva!" She clapped her hands energetically. "Bingo!"

Harry nodded slowly; he had no other option. Bethany's plan seemed best right now. It seemed like something he would come up with. There was one flaw, however: how would he find Ginerva? He was very likely to step on someone's foot or crash into something.

"How do I find her?" he asked.

"Easy. That there map should help you." She pointed to the Marauder's Map, peeking out of Harry's robes.

He hastily covered it with his hands. "What—how do you know—?"

She giggled. "I was friends with the Weasley twins in my days at Hogwarts. Fred asked me to a few dances back then. He was adorable, but I was too old. Nevermind that, though: I helped them find it. They were looking for mischief one day and I suggested a treasure hunt to find whatever we could. We found Zonko's Joke Shop merchandise, old homework assignments, even some downright disgusting old Fizzing Whizbees. But I checked behind the old Gryffindor tapestry and sure enough, there it was! A worn old piece of yellowing parchment. I knew there was something hidden on it, though. I remember trying every spell I could til it revealed itself. I remember the incantation, too: 'What the hell, why won't this thing show me anything! I wanna cause trouble and it isn't presenting itself to me!" She laughed. "We caused a lot of problems with our trusty…MARAUDER'S MAP!" She shouted the last part to the heavens, watching in delight as a few owls hooted indignantly and took off into the sky. "I'm drunk, but I'm crazy!" she proclaimed, smiling.

Harry smiled too. Bethany was willing to drink with him and to laugh her heart out, not caring if Harry minded or thought her weird. She embraced life like it was free Galleons being handed to her. She loved her life and Harry loved that.

He aspired to be like her.

She ran her fingers through her blonde hair, getting caught on numerous knots. "Damn hair," she said, giggling. "I've been moving around too much."

"Thanks for everything," Harry said to her, and she smiled and wrapped her arms around him. He could taste slightly sour alcohol on her breath. Her hands were warm and her cheek pressed against his.

"Sometimes you just need a hug," she told him, suddenly serious. "Sometimes you just need somebody to love, don't you?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed, drinking from his cherry-vodka-butterbeer. He drained his cup and realized that he was drunk as well, but he felt warm and at peace with Bethany, lying on his back on the cool flat rock and staring at the sky. Nobody was there but them—they were stargazing in a remote field about a half-hour's walk from Hogsmeade. Harry was surprised it hadn't been attacked for commercial use yet.

"I need to stop drinking now," Bethany said, and curled up into a ball. She rested her head in his lap. Her hair fanned out over his legs. "I also kinda wanna play a game."

Harry nodded. "Anything in particular?"

"Truth or Dare." Bethany laughed. "I used to play Insane Truth or Dare 2.0 with my friends from Hogwarts. They were dares like run naked into the opposite sex's dormitory, sneak into Snape's office and substitute his drink for firewhiskey, yaddah yaddah yaddah. So we can play Insane Truth or Dare 2.0—or just Truth or Dare."

"Regular," Harry said gently. He was so happy that Bethany was there to be the outgoing kind of drunk—it meant Harry could be the quiet, alone-with-your-thoughts kind of drunk.

"Okay, Harry. Truth or Dare?"

"Dare."

"You sure you wanna follow through with that?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah."

"I don't mean to offend you in any way by the dare, then, is that okay?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. Your dare is—kiss me."

* * *

Harry froze. He looked at Bethany blankly.

Her hair looked like stardust in the bright shining moonlight. Her eyes were but two stars twinkling in their own sprinkled sky. Her skin was porcelain in the darkness, like marble or alabaster, and looked smooth and pristine. She was smiling in the happiest sad way that Harry had ever seen. Harry could not deny her beauty. He may love Ginerva…

However, Bethany…she was wild and crazy and loved to drink, just like him. She liked him. He liked her. They fit like two different jigsaw puzzle pieces: perfectly.

Harry gently pulled her face up to his and pressed his lips to hers. She kissed him gently and he the same, and they were tentative, unsure of what to do exactly. Bethany eventually pulled away and smiled.

"Awkward," she breathed, and kissed him again. It felt so wonderful, so _riveting, _to be loved again. Someone actually desired him—of course, if he was right about this. If Bethany wasn't just drunk senseless and, perhaps, was in love with him the way a fan is in love with their favorite celebrity until they realize how regular and great of a person they are and fall head-over-heels for them after laying on their backs under the stars and finding alabaster skin and moondust and sipping from bottles—that's when they fall in love (in every fanfiction ever written).

Maybe Bethany was in love with him, maybe she wasn't. One thing was for sure, Harry did like the taste of her alabaster skin.

* * *

They never did get another truth or dare in. It was the great Singular Dare, and Harry couldn't stop kissing Bethany. He lapped her up like she was whiskey and she nearly sucked his face off. When she finally pulled away it was to breath for a moment before diving back in.

"Harry," she murmured against his lips, her gasps like little puffs of smoke. "Harry, Ginerva…"

The sudden _zap! _of Bethany using Ginerva's name jolted Harry back into reality. "We…we need to stop."

"Yeah." Bethany's cheeks were extremely red. "That was…"

Harry shushed her. "It never happened."

As he laid back down on the rock he thought he heard her whisper something.

_"Whatever you say."_

* * *

Bethany gazed up at the stars, her lips pressured with the ghost of Harry's mouth. His tongue still danced in her mouth, his teeth still snagged on her bottom lip. She could feel his hot breath all over her skin, his hands on her back, in her hair.

She had one chance, and she blew it.

She hadn't meant to remember about Ginerva, but she did. She couldn't let herself continue. That—that was one of the Rules of Females! You can't break the Rules of Females! It also wasn't morally right. She had gotten Harry drunk, toyed with his emotions, and twisted him around and around her finger, slowly reeling him in, slowly…

She knew he'd loved it. He wouldn't have stopped if she hadn't stepped in.

And now he wanted to pretend like it never happened.

Bethany couldn't let him go now. He was slipping through her fingertips, and she had to scrabble to keep him. Soon he'd be off for Hogwarts, his lips kissing Ginerva's lips and not hers. In one afternoon, Bethany had fallen for Harry. He was so quiet and didn't judge her; he liked the way she talked; he said they fit together. They were both insane in their own ways—Bethany with her loud, crazy addictions and talkative manner, though secretly trapped with her own thoughts and self-harming; and Harry with his screaming, fiery-furious exterior that the media showcases and his silent thoughts that only she had heard. She had seen the scars on his wrists, on his stomach. She didn't care.

Each scar meant another battle that had been won.

Harry was asleep next to her. She was very cold but didn't want to wake him, so she tried to ignore the shivers ricocheting throughout her body and just _sleep. _Unfortunately, it was much too hard and she sat up and drank some water.

"Beth?" Harry called drowsily. She melted. He was so cute, his hair ruffled and his voice low and gravelly from sleep. "Are you still there?"

"Don't worry," she whispered, squeezing his hand. "I wouldn't leave. I just got cold."

"Oh. Come here, then." He patted the space next to him. She snuggled up close against his warm body and rested her head on his chest, very comfortable.

"Thanks," she managed.

She fell into a peaceful, undisturbed slumber.


	9. Chapter 9

_**owl post**_

_**(a harry potter story)**_

* * *

Ginny awoke with a start, her breathing very shallow. She had dreamt another dream about Seamus—except he was torturing Corey, not her.

She still couldn't believe Corey had come to save her. She owed so much to him now. Her life, her happiness, her safety. He was her guardian angel.

Ginny rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. The soft red light from the alarm clock tugged at the corner of her eye. _2:49._ It was way too early to get up.

_The Enchanted Ball!_

It was _tonight!_

Her heart beat very fast against her ribcage. Seamus was expecting her to be his date. She was terrified of what would happen if she did not attend, but terrified of what would happen if she did. Ginny wished very dearly that she was Corey's date. Corey would spin her too fast and spill drinks down his front and trip over his feet. He'd be perfect.

Ginny was very confused. She still felt somewhere deep down for Seamus—his ghost, the one who had given her a first kiss and screamed her on at Quidditch practice. But now there was Harry, who was in love with her. He wrote her sweet letters and was her best friend, the one who didn't judge her. The complication was that he was an infamous, drunken, cigarette-smoking, troubled seventeen-year-old and she was a simple sixteen-year-old girl who was powerless against an ex-boyfriend. She felt unqualified to help him. Then Corey entered her heart and she was so unsure of her feelings of him. She loved him very, very much, but taking the step from "best friend" to "boyfriend" was major and she didn't want to rock the tranquil waters that they were floating on. She _could not _lose Corey again. Corey was like her big teddy bear. Harry was her blackbird. Seamus was her scar.

Ginny threw off the covers, thoughts tearing at her brain. She was too restless to go back to bed. She crept across the cool carpet of her dormitory, careful not to wake Angie, Clarissa, or Bridget on her way.

She wanted to clear her mind, to stretch her legs. She was in flannel pajama pants and a loose gray t-shirt, her hair long and plain down her shoulders.

Ginny walked to the common room. The embers in the fire winked at her, their glowing scarlet burning into Ginny's mind. She knelt down near them and cast a Flame-Freezing charm on herself. Ginny scooped some coals into her hands. A soft tickling feeling spread across Ginny's fingers. She held the embers up to her face and smiled as their gentle warmth brushed her face. She set the coals down and walked over to the Fat Lady.

"'Scuse me," Ginny whispered.

The Fat Lady jumped with a surprised _"snnna?"_ She blinked, peering down at Ginny. Her eyebrows knit.

"What in the name of Merlin are you _doing_ out here at such a time?" the painted lady squawked.

"Couldn't sleep," Ginny told her.

"Go back up to your dormitory, sweetie. You shouldn't be up! Filch'll catch you."

Ginny smiled. "I don't mind. I just want to stroll around, not cause trouble."

The Fat Lady bit her lip. "It's not my responsibility. Password?"

"Phoenix feather," Ginny recited, and the Fat Lady swung forward.

* * *

Ginny clambered out of the portrait hole and into the dark, deserted corridor lit only by sputtering torches. Shadows danced and flickered, pinching at Ginny's clothes and plucking her hair. She walked along, hoping her footsteps didn't echo too much.

She ventured to the library, which was pitch-black and terrifying. Nevertheless, she wanted to explore, so she muttered _"Lumos!" _and tiptoed inside.

Rows and rows of tightly-bound, best-condition books lined the shelves so neatly Ginny swore they were glued in place. She had always wanted to do something, but Madam Pince wouldn't allow it. "You'll dirty them!" she had screeched. "You'll soil them with your sticky little fingers, girl!"

But now…

Ginny gave a tiny laugh and sprinted down the rows of books, trailing her fingers across their spines, little sparks of electricity popping on her hands. She loved books ever so much and now she could brush hundreds, thousands of them. She stifled laughter—she was running down a library at three a.m. and nobody could stop her!

Once she reached the end of every last row she crept back to the door and slipped out of the library, breathing rather heavily.

Where else to go? There was the Great Hall, but that was likely being watched. The kitchens? She had no chance—the pear would make too much noise. The grounds? Ginny didn't like the idea of being alone outside…and, of course, too many painful memories were associated with the grounds at nighttime…

Ginny eventually decided on heading to the Astronomy Tower to stargaze. She was incredibly stupid for wandering around like she was, but Ginny felt like she had been quelled. She needed to show that she was Fred and George's sister, popular and pretty and not just some girl who showed up to classes crying and was much too quiet to be noticed.

It was, in that moment, a sort of awakening for Ginny.

_I'm not going to let Seamus win anymore, _she thought determinedly as she climbed some steps. _I am going to be happy and exciting and a firework show again, because that is who I am. I'm not some girl who hides in her dormitory and eats in the library—oh, no. I am Ginny Weasley, pen-pal of Harry Potter, Quidditch star, Miss Popular! I am not a pushover and a hushed little figure! I am Ginny, and Seamus Finnigan is a worthless bastard who CAN'T CHANGE THAT! I am beautiful and strong and worth being loved by someone! And I'm going to become myself again!_

She kept the laughter in but could not contain a broad grin.

* * *

Finally she reached the Astronomy Tower. The stars smiled down at Ginny and the moon glowed warmly on her skin.

"Fancy seeing you here," said a voice.

Ginny whirled around to find Romulus Malfoy tucked away in a corner.

"Romulus?" she asked, very startled. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Same goes for you, miss," he sneered, but he looked awful and more pitiful than smug. "I came here to be alone."

"I came because I needed adventure," Ginny said, not rudely. In fact, she said it very politely and softly.

"Oh, shut up. You don't need to be nice to me, you know. We're not friends."

"Or is it that Draco and Ron aren't friends? Y'know, you never actually did anything to me. We kinda _had_ to hate each other because our brothers hate each other." She smiled at Romulus. "I'm really sorry for everything I've ever said, and I take it all b—"

"Stop! Stop, stop, stop!" Romulus said angrily. "Don't get all mushy on me, Weasley! Don't spew rubbish, alright? You feel bad for me and I feel bad for you, let's leave it there."

Ginny frowned. "Why d'you feel bad for me?" She sat next to Romulus, drawing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, tilting her head so she could look at the pale blond boy beside her.

"You're kidding, right? I see the way you walk around, like you've got the weight of a hundred million Galleons on your shoulders. I see how you start to cry in classes. I see a lot of things that you don't think I see, and yet you notice when Jameson comments on how you 'seem different'. God, Ginny." He curled his lip in disgust.

"Look, I've—I'm not any different—"

"Shut up! Yes you are. You don't want to tell me, because you don't trust me, but you're sure as hell different." He looked at her, finally, eye to eye. Ginny's brown eyes searched Romulus's gray eyes for any warnings, but she saw revulsion.

"Okay. I'm leaving." Ginny stood.

"No! No, please. Don't." Romulus grabbed her wrist and yanked her back down. "Look, okay? You've been a bitch to me and I've been a bastard to you, and I'm…well…not sorry, exactly, but want to erase that. Your rudeness and my rudeness cancel out. We've basically started over."

Ginny extended her hand. Romulus looked at her blankly.

"Hello there, my name's Ginny," she said, looking quizzically at Romulus.

Romulus shook her hand—his fingers were freezing—and smiled softly, looking down at his shoes. "Uh…hi, I'm Romulus."

And with that, he started sobbing.

Ginny touched his toe with her toe as he cried. "God. I'm s-sorry. I d-didn't mean—I'm—I'm s-sorry I knocked y-you off your b-broom."

"Oh, that?" Ginny waved her hand. "It's okay."

"Y-you would've d-died!"

"But I didn't. Stop crying, you blubbering baby." Ginny smiled at him and he smiled a watery smile.

"I am really sorry. That's what's been eating at me. I—I never thought I'd try to k-kill someone." He put his head in his hands. "I just wanted to t-tell you so badly. But I was a-afraid of Jameson."

"I would be too." She laughed to herself. "Listen, Romulus. Can we just say everything's alright? I'm sick of having to think of comebacks in .02 seconds when we battle. I dunno what our friends will say, but I'm not mad at you anymore. I don't hate you. I dunno if we're friends yet, but we're definitely acquaintances."

Romulus wrapped his arms around her tightly, cutting her off. "No. We're friends."

She grinned and led him over to the edge of the balcony. "I wanna show you some constellations. That's how I initiate my friends. It's a long process. I'm gonna have to quiz you on the constellations." Romulus laughed.

* * *

Professor Dumbledore smiled at Minerva McGonagall, watching the redhead and the pale boy converse. "That, my dear Professor McGonagall, is how the world should work."

* * *

Ginny sat up, yawning. "The Ball is tonight," she said to Romulus, putting her head on his shoulder. "We should probably get some sleep."

"Are you still going with Finnigan?" Romulus asked.

"Yeah. I kinda want to break things off—don't tell him. I'd much rather go with Corey than Seamus. Please don't mention that to him, I want him to have a fun Ball."

"Wait—you're not going to break up with him because you want him to 'have fun'? Ginny, you should just get rid of him."

Ginny smiled and gave a tiny jerk of her shoulders as she laughed. "That's the Slytherin way of doing things. I'm leaning toward the Hufflepuff method—for just one night." She ruffled Romulus's hair. "I'm gonna go to bed. Night. Thanks…for the apology and a fun time stargazing. You'll get to know the constellations soon." She squeezed his hand. "Bye."

"Bye," Romulus said, watching her as she went.

She was lovely. She was a great person to have as a friend, and Romulus was happy he could get the apology off his shoulders. He was happy to be friends with Ginny. Romulus was very happy.

* * *

Ginny's gaze lingered on Romulus for about a second before she collided with someone. Her breath momentarily left her—thoughts of expulsion exploded like firecrackers in her numb mind.

"Miss Weasley," a kind voice said.

"P-Professor Dumbledore!" Ginny gasped.

_Shit, _she thought, _Snape sent for Dumbledore and now I'm leaving Hogwarts. _She'd had many run-ins with Snape before and now he had a chance to expel her.

"You are not in trouble, my dear," he said good-naturedly. "You did nothing wrong. In fact, you did a fabulous thing. You righted things with an enemy. I believe that deserves utmost respect. Fifty points to Gryffindor—and to Slytherin, I suppose!" he chortled as Romulus materialized; face almost white in the darkness. "I'm very proud of the students we have here."

"Thank you, Professor—good god, I'm really sorry. I came out to clear my head and my feet had a mind of their own." Ginny laughed along with the Headmaster. Romulus stood silently, unsure of what was going on.

"So, are we expelled?" he asked rather rudely.

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Malfoy. However, if you seek punishment, punishment can be arranged."

"No sir."

"Good. Now, hurry onto bed. The Enchanted Ball awaits you tonight, and you will want lots of energy for it!" Dumbledore winked. "Good night."

"Good night, sir," Ginny replied, while Romulus merely cocked an eyebrow.

* * *

Ginny smacked Romulus's arm as soon as Dumbledore was out of earshot. "You goddamn idiot!" she whispered fiercely. "You could've earned at least two week's detention!"

Romulus grinned; his grin looked evil in the glow of the moonlight, it looked like a slash on his face—clumsy and misplaced, carved into his cheeks. He looked terrifying.

"See, Ginny, I don't follow the rules. I don't cower under authority like most do. I rebel." He grabbed her wrist. "You could too. If you wanted. I could make you into a leather-clad, cigarette-smoking badass."

Ginny smiled. "I don't need to be a badass. I'm my own kind of badass."

"Whatever you say, darling. I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, bad boy." Ginny gave a tiny giggle before retiring to her dormitory. It was 4:09 am.

* * *

Ginny awoke to Angie's frantic screams. "I've got _nothing _to wear, absolutely nothing—Bridget, get your _hands off, that is silk—_god, where are my heels? THIS IS A HELLUVA DISASTER!"

"Whoa," Ginny said sleepily. "Ang, shut up."

"Oh, right! Get off your lazy butt! Sure, we've got no classes, but _I need time to prepare! _I don't even have a date yet! I'm so behind schedule, god—get up and help me, Gin!"

Ginny groaned and put her head under her pillow. "I was up late last night."

"Doing what?"

"I don't even know." She rubbed her eyes. She had, of course, lied—she knew exactly what she was doing last night.

_Fraternizing with Romulus Malfoy? Jesus, Ginny, are you trying to make yourself hated? _Ginny could hear Angie's voice now.

_ No way, Ginny._ _Romulus is our sworn ENEMY! And now you're sneaking out to spend time with him? _Corey's disgusted tone was so accurate it shocked Ginny. _God, Ginny, you can't do this!_

What if she begged them to give him a chance? What if she was defiant, and chose Romulus over them? That would never happen, but Romulus wasn't all bad! He had apologized! He had been very sweet and laughed at Ginny's jokes! He was alright!

"Ginny, d'you know of anyone who needs a date to the Ball?" Angie asked frantically, now reaching in Bridget's trunk. "I'll take anyone."

"Maybe Ron does."

"Oh, not Ron—how about Dean Thomas?"

Ginny shook her head. "He's going with Lavender Brown."

"Good god—uh—Neville Longbottom?"

"Even he's taken. Luna Lovegood's going with him."

Angie threw up her hands, flinging Bridget's purse and its contents all across the room. "I need a date. I really need a date. Why did I wait til the last minute?" She hurried out of the room, shouting "DOES ANYONE NEED A DATE TO THE BALL?"

Ginny chuckled and sat up, stretching. She clambered down her bunk. "Angie's crazy," Ginny told Bridget and Clarissa, who laughed.

"She's a bit too restricted to a schedule," Clarissa remarked, which earned a nod from Bridget.

"When one part of her equation doesn't work—_BOOM. _She explodes."

"She's nice, though. She's very good with her wand shows." Clarissa smiled. "She's quite popular, too."

Angie came barreling back into the room, her hair very messy from running. "Well, I've gotten a date."

"Who?"

"Nathan Stauskas. The good-looking boy in our year? He said he'd quite enjoy going with me…but he did ask if you were available. I told him no and he looked thoroughly downcast." Angie frowned. "All the boys wanted to go with you."

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "All the boys?"

"Yeah. Even Romulus Malfoy said he wouldn't mind dancing with 'The Great Ginerva Weasley'."

"Come on, Angie. You're not seriously mad over this?" Ginny tilted her head. "It's not my fault!"

"I know, I know. It's just…you're always so good at everything. Quidditch, school, social situations. Everything."

Ginny glared at Angie. "Come off it! You sound like a first-year! We're not little girls, okay? You're better with your wand and you've got a better attitude! You don't get into trouble and you're much more organized! You can't sit there and pout about me. That's stupid."

Angie shrunk backward. "Stupid, is it?" she asked softly.

"Yeah, it is!" Ginny snapped. "So stop soaking in self-pity and liven up!"

"I'm sorry."

Ginny relaxed, calming herself. Her anger had seized her. "It's alright. Just—don't blame me for things like that."

Angie nodded rapidly, tears sparkling in the corners of her eyes. "Okay."

Ginny felt guilt swell up in her chest. "Ang, don't cry…"

Angie gently wiped at her tears. She sat up and turned to her dress, still trembling slightly. Clarissa and Bridget looked rather reproachfully at Ginny and Bridget went over to help Angie with her dress.

_Great, _Ginny thought glumly. _Now they all think I'm a raging madwoman._

* * *

Hedwig fluttered down and landed beside Ginny, a letter in her beak.

"Hedwig!" Ginny exclaimed happily. Angie beamed at Ginny, obviously still a bit terrified.

Ginny gently took the letter and stroked Hedwig's feathers. "Thank you," she said, and offered her a bit of bacon. Hedwig snapped it up. "You look rather hungry." Ginny gave her two more strips, and Hedwig gulped them down. Ginny frowned. "Aren't you fed properly?" She gave the owl a few more bacon pieces and a long drink from her orange juice. Hooting in thanks, Hedwig took off.

Ginny unfolded the letter.

* * *

_Dear Ginerva,_

_How are you? It's been awhile since we corresponded! _

_ I've heard the Enchanted Ball is tonight! I do hope you have a good time. The Enchanted Ball was quite fun when I attended Hogwarts._

_ I've written to tell you about this girl, Bethany Court, who's been helping me! We spent the night together one night and drank but mostly talked. She's a very outgoing and spirited girl, and she makes me feel much better about my situation. She's from America—how cool is that? I've never met anyone from America before. She's got such a strange accent—she stretches out her vowels and drops her l's and r's. I love her accent. I also really like her attitude—take on the world and don't let anyone stand in your way! God, she's a great person._

_ Well, that's about it. I guess I was really feeling down earlier—there was an incident with Cho Chang—and so I ventured into town drinking my whiskey and amidst the people who looked upon me in disgust there was Ms. Court! She's tapping on my shoulder now, actually._

_Best wishes,  
Mr. Potter_

* * *

Ginny's heart sank and she felt like throwing up.

Another girl.

Another girl who should've been her.

Bethany Court, the American chick with a fabulous accent and a taste for alcohol. She doesn't let anything stand in her way. Ginny Weasley, the British girl who _sounded just like Bethany._

_Well, fine, _Ginny thought defiantly. _I'm going to the Ball with Corey and I'm going to have a great time and write to Harry __**all about Corey.**_

Ginny smiled to herself. Two can play at that game.

* * *

"Corey!" Ginny called. Her friend turned around, grinning.

"Hey, Gin."

"I've decided that you're going to the Ball with me!"

Corey's lips parted. "Really? What about—"

"Who gives a damn about him? We're going to the Ball and we're going to have the night of our lives." Ginny grinned and threw her arms around Corey, bubbling with happiness. _She didn't have to go with Seamus. She didn't have to go with Seamus. SHE DIDN'T HAVE TO GO WITH SEAMUS._

"Oh-kay then!" Corey said, beaming. "I'll come by at six. Wear something pretty." Ginny laughed and skipped off, singing to herself.

* * *

"Ginny," a cool voice said.

Ginny's blood ran cold for a split second. She took a deep breath. "Yeah, Seamus?"

"Ready for the Ball?"

Ginny bit her lip. "So, actually, I don't want to go with you. I'm going with someone else."

Seamus's expression went from calm to deadly dangerous in .0029 seconds.

_"What?"_

"I don't want to go with you. You're not going to hurt me anymore, Seamus. You need to get away from me before I turn you in to the authorities." Ginny's lip trembled. "You need to go."

_Why am I sad? Why am I sad? I should be happy he's leaving!_

Perhaps a part of Ginny had believed him all those times he said he loved her after he hurt her. Perhaps a part of Ginny had felt secure when he said nobody else would take her from him. Maybe Ginny felt special and felt like she truly was doing something wrong. Maybe it was like taking a piece of her out and throwing it away.

Seamus didn't look angry.

He looked heartbroken.

"Ginny, no. Ginny, I'm doing this because I love you…I love you so much and I can't let anyone steal you…"

Ginny felt tears spill over and onto her cheeks. "No, Seamus. You need to l-leave me alone."

"Ginny, please, baby…don't do this…we can work this out!"

She backed away. "No, Sea. I'm not going to—you can't h-hurt me anymore. G-get away from m-me." Her sobs were raspy and breathless. "P-please. D-don't follow me around anymore."

Seamus tried to grab her wrists but Ginny pulled her hands away, now positively bawling. "Seamus. N-no."

"Ginny, you can't do this!" He was crying now too. "You're the love of my life, you can't leave me!"

She looked at him through her salty tears.

"You don't mean that."

"Yes I do!" he screeched. "There's still time before the Ball, we can still g-go together!"

"Seamus, you're…lying. I'm not the love of y-your l-life. I'm l-like a jewel you can't b-bear to be stolen. I'm not a p-person to you; I'm a th-thing!"

Seamus's eyes filled with fire, the tears evaporating. He advanced on her and smacked her straight across the face. _"You never question me!"_

Ginny's tears halted, too. "You know what? YOU DON'T CONTROL ME! You can't just smack me around and punch me and try to kill me! I HATE YOU! I absolutely hate you! You need to get out of my life and out of my friends' lives! GO!" She pointed to the door.

Seamus looked like Filch and a Hungarian Horntail had mated and given birth to a deformed child. "I will not hesitate to—"

"No, no more threats. If you leave me alone, I won't tell anyone. If you continue to abuse me, you're going straight to Azkaban, you bitch."

He looked at Ginny like he was planning murder. Perhaps he was, she didn't care. She needed him **out of her life.**

"Tell whoever you like, I don't care. You've got no evidence." His lips curled into a vicious smile. "Go on, Ginny. You'll come running back to me soon enough." He gripped her wrists.

* * *

"Soon enough."


End file.
